Triggered
by MissusMelancholy
Summary: Edward tried to flee, but being away from her affected him in ways he could not have understood. He left to save her from the ugliest parts of himself , but a heart wants what it wants, and his monster cannot be denied forever. AU-NM.Gritty.Death.OOC.
1. Trigger

**Triggered**

_Light dances and sparkles across her face, the sun's rays blanket her warm cheeks and shimmer as they are reflected by my own face onto the luminescent canvas of her skin. Her tiny pink tongues ventures out to coat her pouty upper lip in saliva, making it glisten even brighter in the sunlight. _

_Mahogany and wine hair puddles around her face and shoulders, contrasting naturally against the vibrant green of the grass below us. Individual strands catch the light breaking through the trees and they shine like tiny live wires, dancing and floating in the slight breeze._

_Her eyes are closed and her long, deep brown lashes throw shadows above her cheekbones. Heat radiates off her form, even more poignant against my skin than the warmth of the sun above us. Her heartbeat pounds in my ears._

_Breathtaking. To a mere human she would be awe-inspiring - for me completely maddening. Devastating. Earth shattering. _

_Holy._

_I am a moth to her flame, a repitant sinner at her altar. I reach out my cold dead hand to touch her. _

My vision flickers in and out, and like a wrecking ball it hits me that I am not in the meadow - not really. I am not with her. Even though I know it isn't real I try desperately to hold on to the moment, I need a few more minutes to study the elegant line of her nose, the deep red tint of her lips. More than anything in the world I need to touch her, I need to feel her hot blood running rhythmically underneath her skin.

Somewhere far away, wherever my real body is, something crashes down - glass tinkers. Self preservation never crosses my mind, I only grasp at the fading vision of Aphrodite, willing myself to stay with her, in the warmth of her sunlight. Something else shatters and the vision flickers again, then it's gone.

I want to scream, but I don't have the strength for it. I haven't had that kind of strength in weeks. Not that I'd needed to use my voice lately, I am too dangerous for any type of close interaction with humans and I haven't spoke to my family in months. Some small part of me knows that they're likely looking for me, but I'm too far gone to do anything about it and too utterly empty to care. I lost - or rather abandoned - my cell phone months ago, on some dirty bus in some nameless town in Mexico.

My hallucination throughly dashed, I am completely aware of my body again, and I look down at my dirty form with detachment. My shoes and socks are missing - forgotten - and the rest of my clothes do not fare much better. The Cullen crest shines dully from the leather cuff hanging loosely on my wrist.

Steps. I hear steps. They are steadily rising up the decrepit stairs below me, advancing closer and closer to my hideaway. The building is abandoned and humans rarely enter it, never moving past the first floor. I know I should react, but I don't.

Instead I stare dumbly at a bent nail jutting crookedly from a crossbeam in the ceiling, and the steps march steadily closer, finally reaching the fifth floor, where the stairs end. There is silence for a few seconds and then I hear a thud as dust puffs up off of the floor, forming a cloud directly above the trapdoor that leads into the attic.

My eyes roll from the nail to the dust mites twirling through the air, each one spinning and rotating in all directions, running into one another clumsily. _ Like her._

"Edward?"

Did I imagine it? It wouldn't be the first time that my cruel mind has tortured me with an imaginary voice, catching me in a moment of weakness and allowing me a small moment of comfort before jarring me back to the real world - this putrid attic crawl space. Something about this voice is different though, and what makes it different is also what makes it so utterly unimportant.

It isn't _her_ voice.

"Edward? Son?" The voice below me calls again. Yes, the voice downstairs is real, not like the meadow or the sunlight on her face or her chime-like voice that haunts me. The voice downstairs is lower, male, and oddly familiar.

_Your family, you fucking fool _my traitorous mind hisses at me, but I still don't move, only allowing my eyes to focus on the aerial acrobatics of the dust in the air.

Because it doesn't matter.

With a loud cry the trapdoor flips open and dust and debris explode into the already stuffy room, not that I had been breathing in the polluted air. A small amount of light spills in from the hole in the floor, and my sire rises up through the opening and lands with a near silent thud. A few seconds later, Alice emerges from the hole as well, cobwebs clinging to the spikes of her hair.

I watch the scene in front of me with honest disinterest, only facing toward it at all because I had already been staring in this direction when it started. I don't bother looking at either member of my family directly, instead focusing back on the oxidation of the nail in the crossbeam. I feel their stares on me but I only stare upwards, willing myself to fall back into oblivion. I want to forget _everything_.

"Edward?" Carlisle tries again, but I don't try to look at him and I'm not wholly sure that I could if I wanted to. My muscles feel as if they have atrophied from lack of use and nourishment. My last hunt is still in the room with us, rotting on the floor not far from Alice's four inch heel. Even that meal had been unintentional, taken in a moment of unconscious hunger. I vaguely recall listening with disinterest to a block party a mile or so down the street and when I came back to myself the rat was clutched in my dirty hands, crushed beyond all recognition. The blood was vile and unsatisfying and left a taste in my mouth much like tar - it was a fitting last meal.

Carlisle is now directly in my line of sight, staring at my face with concentration. I try to focus my attention on him but it's nearly impossible, like running through thick mud. In the same moment that I realize that he trying to speak to me in his thoughts, I realize that I can't hear them. This revelation doesn't bother me in the slightest.

Because it doesn't matter.

"He's not going to respond to you." My sister's voice is more similar to my Beloved's, but still not the same, so my interest quickly dissolves.

"We've got to get him out of here, at least get him something to eat. I don't even know if he's capable of responding."

"We can't move him until nightfall, there's too many people around, it's too big of a risk."

"Will he go willingly?"

There is a pause. "He can't do much else."

Their voices barely reach me, its almost as if they've already left, as if they were never really here. Truly I am already alone.

I drift.

Alice leaves. It doesn't matter.

Carlisle stays, not saying anything at all. He watches in silence as the faint light coming through the single opaque window fades from gray to orange then to a washed-out black. I'm grateful for the silence, and I spend my time simply staring - remembering. Falling.

Alice returns, Carlisle meets her at the trapdoor he carries an animal to me. I don't look to see what it is. I don't care. I flinch at the grating sound the animal makes into my face, but otherwise I don't react to its presence in front of me.

"Breathe in." Carlisle snaps, clearly becoming agitated. It would feel nice, to fill my lungs up with air again, but I stopped breathing months ago, after the rat incident. With humans in such close proximity I couldn't risk another unconscious hunting excursion.

I don't do as Carlisle says. I don't even look at him. From the corner of my eye I see Alice flinch harshly. Half a second later I feel the side of my face erupt in a harsh sting, the force of Carlisle's slap stunning me. Instinctively I suck air into my lungs, making a hissing sound through my teeth. I look at him, finally, meeting his black angry eyes with a look of resignation and shame on my face.

I suck in another breath and the smell of the goat is overpowering in the stuffy crawl space. Venom fills my mouth and the brush fire in my chest erupts in earnest, scorching the sides of my raw throat. I cough on the overwhelming scents and tastes in the air.

In the next second Carlisle pulls the animal onto my legs roughly, cracking its neck and biting into the throat. Blood pulses out of the wound and runs into my lap. Carlisle stands, leaving the body in my limp hands. I take in one more studdering breath before I lose myself and feed on the pathetic farm animal. My shoulders shake as my throat muscles pull the blood down my throat, dousing the fire that burns there. As I drink I notice voices, flickering in the back of my mind.

Once I finish I lay my head back against the wall and drop the limp body into my lap. My thirst is only barely quenched but already I feel so much stronger, thoughts from the humans surrounding us gurgle like a quick moving stream behind the more persistent inner dialogues of Alice and Carlisle. The goat's blood rushes through me, tingling as it feeds power back into my lank body.

It disgusts me. Physical weakness is a useful tool in staying away from her. If I can't get to her I can't go back, I can't ruin her life.

I am furious with myself for feeding again.

_Edward. _Carlisle's voice is loud and harsh. I turn my head to look at him, grateful that my neck still seems to work but still angry with myself and with Carlisle for his intrusion. _Can you hear me? _ He asks me in a softer tone, but his lips don't move. I nod. His thoughts are relieved but still irritated.

_Come back with us._ This time the internal voice belongs to my sister, who squats down in front of me, putting her tiny cold hands below my ears. My jaw quakes when I remember the the dozens of times Bella's hand burned trails along the features of my face. The rage rushing through me turns into an even more painful grief.

I shake my head at Alice, hoping that she'll drop it but already resigned that she won't. Sure enough, her thoughts begin to race with how this is not healthy, how it's not helping the situation. I don't understand that thought at all, seeing as how my continued success at staying away from Bella is the only thing that brings me happiness or pride anymore.

_Edward. _Alice needles me, growing exasperated with my mask of aloofness. I bring my eyes to her and she looks at me with passion as she thinks sternly, _This has gone on long enough. I miss her. We all miss her. I want to see her._

How fucking _dare_ she. How fucking dare she come here to tell me about her withdrawals. Can she not see how hard this is for me? Why can they not understand that this is the only way? My newly returned strength coils in my body and for a brief moment I contemplate leaping on her. Her eyes trail off to the side of my face and then her attention snaps back to me. She takes two steps further away from me, toward Carlisle.

"You stay _away_ from her." My voice comes out throaty and dead, but the warning behind my words is unmistakable.

"I see her all the time Edward, and she's so unhappy. She hates this. She feels lonely and betrayed and sh - "

"STOP IT!" I scream furiously. I am gulping in lungfuls of air, causing my chest to rise and fall jaggedly. The fragrant blood wafting in from outside - both animal and human - burns my throat and seems to fuel my anger, tinting the edges of my vision an angry red. "You...Y-you promised you wouldn't watch for her, Alice! Dammit, you promised!" I stuttered. My whole frame moved in sync with my heaving chest except my hands which shake violently, aching for an outlet for the pain coursing through me.

"I don't have to_ try_ to see her Edward, and you know that I just can't turn it off! I love her, and she's important to this family. And she's unhappy. Of course I see her!" Alice's tiny hands push into her hips as she stands in front of me, towering over my form in her high-heeled shoes.

"_SHE'S MINE!_", I thunder, but I quickly try to tamp the growing possessive anger in me, flowing through my very bones. Alice and Carlisle both stand silent for a fraction of second, but then continue to follow trails in their minds that lead to her. Places that will break me should I visit them again.

"Please don't talk about her. I can't take it." I'm pleading now, desperate to escape the situation, desperate to escape this _life_. All I have is Bella, who is too pure and fragile to be around me. I live for something I cannot see, for someone I cannot touch. However, just because I can't be with her doesn't mean I can't try to protect her. It doesn't mean that I am not still completely obsessed with her, primally possessive of her.

On top of the anger I feel at Alice for defying my ridiculous demands, I am even more filled with jealousy that Alice has seen her. The thought of Alice's visions allowing her to see my Beloved's blush, or hear her cry for me, or talk in her sleep, makes me almost nauseous with guilt and rage. I am suddenly powerfully envious of every human in the greater Seattle area, anyone who may have any chance at all of speaking a few passing phrases with her or catching her scent on the breeze as she walks past. I am jealous of our classmates, I am jealous of her father, her mother. Her pillows. The spoons she eats her disgustingly soggy cereal with.

Ignoring my plea, Alice continues to badger me in her mind. _She's not just going to forget about us Edward. She wont just move on. Her future changes almost every day but it's hardly ever good._

Finally Alice breaks me, and although I know it will only torture me later I slump back and ingest Alice's inner ramblings concerning Bella as if they are bread and I am starving. I watch a slideshow of premonitions both fufilled and voided, I watch her pine for me, gluttoning myself on snapshots of her tortured face even while my heart shreds. I notice almost immediately when Alice's thoughts trail away from her evidence, so I push myself deeper into the recesses of her mind to find the cause of the distraction.

_Bella in a dark car, a streetlamp illuminating her perfect heart-shaped face through the front glass. The lighting throws the shadows under her eyes into sharp contrast to the rest of her face, which seems strained and drawn. She's looking down at her hands in her lap, picking at her tattered fingernails and it seems as though her entire frame is vibrating. Is she nervous? She says that she's not good enough, that something's not right with her, and when she speaks I notice that she isn't alone in the car. Mike fucking Newton is sitting in the driver's seat, the muted light of the streetlamp making his hair appear an odd blueish white. His whole body is turned toward Bella's frame, and he shakes his head sadly as Bella finishes her self-depreciating speech._

_Slowly, Newton's hand moves from his side to Bella's face, reaching through her thick mane of hair to cup her reddening cheek. Her faces lifts to his and he leans in closer, taking his time approaching my Beloved. She stays still, eyes as wide as a frightened fawn, holding in her breath, back tense. Newton's eyes stays open as he closes the final inches, watching Bella's face. She watches his lips. After another torturous second he presses his mouth to hers, holding his face completely still, as if letting Bella adjust. He tentatively squirms in his seat, turning his body closer to hers then removing his lips from her mouth only to push them back again, not keeping them frozen this time. Bella's body hasn't moved, her arms still hang limp at her sides and her spine is a harsh straight line. _

_She finally breathes heavily against his mouth, which seems to encourage him. A single tear slides unnoticed down her cheek and she begins moving her lips slowly against his, picking up intensity after a heavy moment._

Sometime during the vision my hands force themselves through the floorboards, cracking supports and causing the whole structure to groan in protest. All that I can think is no.

no. no. no.

NO.

_**No.**_

My eyes roll back into my head when Mike's hand moves along her throat, brushing Bella's hair back from her neck delicately. The same ivory column that I've peppered a hundred kisses on. _My_ neck. I watch his fingers twist lazily through her hair as his mouth presses incessantly against her lips, _my _lips. My _girl._ I am both stunned and grief-stricken.

Both emotions are quickly being replaced by something so raw that I fear I may rip myself to tatters. The images before my eyes shade red - no, _bloom_ red - before the vision finally releases me from its hold, seeming to explode into a thousand tiny shards that slice and burrrow into my soul. Rage bubbles up in me, so powerful and overwhelming that it seems impossible.

She is mine. He is touching what is mine. _**Mine.**_

How could I have ever believed I could do this?

Alice's eyes are still glossed over with the future, and Carlisle is looking between the two of us in panic. I finally realize that I'm making a high keening sound, something totally inhuman and strong enough to vibrate the already tipsy building, making the human minds for blocks anxious, raising mysterious goosebumps along their arms. Carlisle's thoughts are on Alice, who is still in the throes of her vision - my hell. My apocolypse.

I realize that this is my only chance.

Alice doesn't emerge from her trance, but when I make my decision a sharp gasp escapes her parted lips. Carlisle jumps to her side and in one quick motion I jerk my hands out of the gaping holes in the floor and I throw my body directly out of the wall behind me.

My exit causes the attic and top floor of the structure to crumble inward on itself, the groans and squeels of the crash reverberating through the neighboorhood. In my mind I hear several dozen humans start at the commotion. Ten or so start the process of investigating out of their windows.

I don't care. It doesn't matter. I run through the streets at an inhuman speed, not caring who sees or whether they believe their eyes or not. As I reach the end of the block I hear Alice and Carlisle yelling for me to stop in their thoughts. Nevertheless, I head for the edge of the city, hoping that I can control my rapidly growing thirst until I reach the wilderness. If I fail, it's not the end of the world. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't really matter.

All that matters is getting back to Forks and reclaiming what's mine.

_Mine._

**APOV -**

Pieces of wood and cement push into various parts of my indestructible body, making me feel slightly claustrophobic, annoying me but not hurting me. My father breathes quietly a few feet away. Humans are gathering outside, we both know its too big of a risk to take off after Edward in front of them all so we wait in the rubble, listening to the humans argue about whether there could have been anyone in the abandoned tower.

Vision after vision flies past my eyes, barely giving me time to comprehend the overall implications, much less any finer details. They all involve the beautiful brown eyes of Bella, so expressive and wide. Most also involve blood, screams, police. A few involve the Volturi. My mind reels with the overload.

In a nearly silent whisper Carlisle asks me, "Is he heading for Forks?"

"Yes, I think so."

As soon as I speak another vision sweeps me away, this one clearer than the others. Once again, all I can do is gasp as the horrific scene plays out in front of me. When it's over my body shudders.

"He's not himself. I think he's lost his mind."

"Yes, he's fell beyond reason. She is his mate." Carlisle states quietly, as if it explains all of this. "We knew this was a possibility. All we can do is follow him and try to save who we can."

More visions flash before my glazed gaze, snippets of tearstained faces and smears of red and black, the ruby, mad eyes of our newborn kind. "He'll kill them both. He can't make it to Forks before it happens."

Carlisle sighs and whispers, "We'll wait for a few more minutes then we'll go after him."

"We wont be able to catch him."

"We still have to try, dear" is his answer.


	2. Hope

**Hope**

**BPOV - **

The green sweatshirt I pull over my head is just as wrinkled as could be expected, considering the small dark hole of my closet that I pulled it from. The smell isn't exactly refreshing either but it will do - its only school after all. Its only Angela and Mike and the few hundred other nondescript, apathetic faces of Forks High. If I plan things right, I only have to interact with Charlie long enough to escape to my truck.

I gather my hair at the nape of my neck and fasten it into a loose ponytail - not even bothering to comb through it with my fingers. I take exactly 45 seconds to brush my teeth, and finish up my daily beauty routine by fingering the dark bulges under my eyes sadly. I've never been pretty, but now, with my features so stark and dazed, I look like a druggie. In a way I guess I am, and let me tell you, withdrawals are a bitch.

I grab my bookbag, not bothering to check that everything is in it because I hadn't removed anything the afternoon before. I won't unzip it today either, I seriously doubt I will bother removing it from the cab of my truck. It is what I now refer to as a 'Charlie-Prop'. Bookbags don't matter because grades don't matter. They don't matter because I already have enough credits to graduate and college is incomprehensible. There's no college in Forks.

And I can't leave Forks, ever. The old-growth forests and murky gray skies were the backdrop to my fairytale, and I can't exist without them, not anymore. They're all I have left.

I hear the shower start in the hall and I see it as my chance for escape. I sling my Charlie-Prop across my shoulder and take off down the stairs, tripping down the last few steps and barely regaining my balance before running headlong into the front door. I swing the heavy oak door open and slam it behind me, giving me just enough time to hear the water shut off upstairs.

I half-jog to my truck, only now realizing how bitchy and unecessary my daring escape really was. I just ran from my father, one of the few people that I allow myself to care about at all, someone who is trying desperately to help me in whatever way he can come up with. Last night's dinner conversation plays in my head as I start my truck and back out of the driveway.

_"Have you thought about that letter that you got from your mother?" His head was angled toward the table and he stared at his hotdogs with more fascination than they warranted. It would have been funny, had I not been mirroring his posture._

_I swallowed the bite of food that I'd been chewing for at least the past four minutes. His tense mentioning of the 'letter', which included a plane ticket along with a lengthy plea to come home, pushed a sigh from between my lips._

_"You know I want you here Bells, I do. But I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. I'm on your side, you know that, but maybe your mom's right." He glanced up at me but I hid behind my hair, fighting the panic that was rising like bile in my throat._

_"Please, Ch - dad. I'm getting better, and I'll try harder, I swear." I finally looked at him, begging him with my eyes not to make me go. I was not above lying, begging - or running - if it meant staying here._

_Charlie glanced at me once more before rising from his chair, taking his half-eaten dinner to the sink. With his back to me, he said, "See Bella, that's part of the problem. You shouldn't have to try this hard to be happy."_

On the short ride to school I strategize, trying to think of the best way to stay here. Logically, it would mean pulling myself together and existing in some semblance of the way that I did before my entire world was shredded around me. However, logically sound does not equal emotionally possible, so I consider all options, including answering phones in Port Angelos, or begging for work at the diner.

It will hurt Charlie if I leave, but in all honesty, its probably no worse than continuing to stay holed up in his house, polluting the atmosphere around him. He was fine before I got here, and I really want to believe that he can pick back up his old way of life if I move out again, especially if I stay close, however closed-off. But then I can't help but think about the current state of the house, and how much weight we both lost when I'd stopped cooking for the first few months after my life ended.

I decide to give this faking it thing one more college try.

I smile at a few choice people in class, even joining in on a conversation with a shocked Angela. She recovers quickly and speaks to me warmly, completely ignoring the fact that I haven't said ten words while inside this school in the past six months.

At lunch I force myself to sit with Angela, even though the hole in my chest is gaping like a poisionous mouth and I can feel the panic and gloom permeating off of my body. Mike, oblivious to all awkward situations, immediately begins to crow about my reappearance at their lunch table. He says the unspeakable name three times over the course of the lunch hour and I cringe every single time it passes his lips.

Once Mike latches on to me the rest of the table falls into easy conversation with one another. Jessica glances at us occasionally while laughing with Lauren and Tyler, but obviously doesn't see me as a threat any longer. Not that she should, given as how I'm tired and miserable and pretty fucking disgusting.

The bell rings and Mike escorts me to physics, placing his hand on my upper arm when we reach the door. I am so busy trying not to look across the hall into Mr. Banner's room that I miss what he says the first time, and have to ask him to repeat himself when I notice that he is staring at me expectantly.

"Look, I know that shit's been hard for you for the past few months" _How could you possibly know, Mike, what it's like to have your soul sucked out and replaced with bitterness and despair? How could you comprehend an inhuman ache? _"I thought it might be cool if I took you out tonight. You know, re-introduced you into the whole teenage social-life thing. It'd be fun, yeah?"

_Nothing is fun. Everything hurts._ I want to say, but I bite my tongue. Mike stares at me with eyes that are half nervous and half confused, seeming to wonder if he needs to repeat himself again. He means well, he's trying to show me acceptance after I've acted like a zombie for months. I think of Charlie's face last night at the dinner table.

I try to smile but I'm sure it looks more like a grimace. Seeing the defeat in my stance, Mike's eyes brigten and his lips pull into an honest smile. I will my voice to be steady and finally answer him, "I'm not sure how good of company I'll be, but sure Mike, I appreciate it."

Nine hours later, I collapse face down into my unmade bed, letting out a huge sigh before rolling onto my side and pulling a pillow to my chest.

The date hadn't went as badly as I'd thought, but I know that this night isn't over yet, and I know that sleep won't come easy. It never does anymore, in fact it hardly comes at all. The ache in my chest that I'd tried to hide for hours explodes through my body, and I let out a dry sob into my comforter. I play the night out in my head, mostly trying to distract myself from the inevitable fallout that I can already feel taking root in me.

The movie was pleasant enough, mere background noise to the cacophony of the theater patrons. Reminisent of the sounds of a summer night, the room was full of hidden movement, whispers and sighs hinting at the invisible currents of energy.

Mike gave off copious amounts of his own energy, constantly moving his hands, repositioning his body. It was strange to me. He asked polite, open-ended questions before and during the movie but I couldn't tell you now what they were or what I answered, no more than I could tell you the name of the bland comedy that we stared at on the screen. But he never touched me, and the movie distracted me at times so for that I was thankful.

Dinner was harder, but I soldiered through it and rewarded myself for my endurance by planning how I would bring my date up in casual conversation with Charlie. Mike paid the check, and I didn't fight him on it as much as I should've.

We are about a mile past the humble "Welcome to Forks" sign when I notice that Mike is taking a route to my house that's unfamiliar to me. I then realize that I've just assumed he was taking me home, the standard itenary of a first date fulfilled.

For the first time that night I initiate conversation with him. "Are we headed back to my house?"

Mike smiles, turning his friendly face toward mine, showing me a slightly guilty look in his eyes. "Well, I was hoping maybe you wanted to go hang out at Lauren's for a little while, there's a party tonight and a bunch of people you know will be there." My face falls further the more he elaborates and thankfully, he accepts quickly that the party isn't happening.

"Hey, it's no big deal if you don't wanna go, I just thought it would be cool. Ya know, the whole 'teenage social-life' thing we talked about?" Mike's tone is teasing but gentle. I'm angry at myself for being an emotional wreck, and I'm embarassed by my inability to be normal, even for one night.

"Look Mike I'm sorry I'm being such a spazz, I want you to know that you did a really great job on this date. Seriously, any girl would love to be treated like you've treated me tonight. B-but," we are both tense in our seats but Mike keeps a tight, friendly smile on his face, pulling the car over into the light of a streetlamp on a sleepy, residential street and turning toward me, even though I continue to stay facing straight ahead. My hands shake in my lap.

"But I'm just not ready for this kind of stuff yet. I know that makes me social retard but I've always been this way and l-lately", I stutter, "It's only gotten worse. I'm getting worse. And you deserve better than that." My eyes had slid down to my hands, and I pick at my tattered nails while trying to keep the hole in my middle from overtaking my ability to speak. I whisper, "I appreciate what you're trying to do, really, but I can't be a normal girl, this is just who I am."

His warm hand touches my cheek and I jump slightly, quickly turning my eyes back to his face where his body is turned toward mine and his eyes are staring back at me with a mixture pity and reassurance. His thumb burns a path along the edge of my mouth as his body shifts closer - always in a state of movement.

My breath catches in my throat and I stare wide into his heavily lidded eyes. I want to stop him but I can't speak, I can't think.

I know already that it will feel wrong, that his lips will be soft and hot and incessant and so different and _wrong._ But won't every man's lips be wrong now that I've experienced the only true right? Will nothing ever feel enticing again?

During my internal battle Mike's lips reach mine, and they feel just like I'd imagined. It isn't disgusting per say, but there's no spark, no pull, no desire to move further. Frustrated, I move my lips slightly, trying to force something, anything, from the empty useless body I've been left with.

A sob nearly breaks through my performance when I realize, for sure, that no one will ever make me feel alive again. The only one with that power promised to take it away - forever - and he had proven himself more than capable of it. A tear slides down my cheek as Mike shifts his fevered body closer to mine, running his hand from behind my ear to the hollow of my throat.

Our kisses are growing more spirited now, I am becoming more agressive and Mike returns my intensity back to me. I'm heartbroken, my hateful destiny clearer to me than ever before, and I push my lips harder against his, stubbornly, trying to force lust to bloom. Trying to be satisfied by what is possible for me. Nothing. Angry tears begin falling down my cheeks.

Mike notices their wetness quickly, and pushes me back slightly just to pull me back into his chest when he sees the shiny rivulets running down my face. "Jesus, I'm sorry, that was way too much. Why didn't you tell me to stop?"

"No I'm sorry", I sob, humiliated. "This is so fucked up. I'm so fucked up. Can you just take me home?"

Without another word we abandon the spot under the streetlamp, taking right turns through the cozy neighborhood until we are pointing back towards the center of town. I stare at the rain slashing through the night outside of my window, my body still shakes with sobs. A few silent minutes later we are parked on a darker street, Mike's engine idling softly outside of my house.

"I meant what I said about this being a really, really great date. On your part", I add on the end, trying to lighten the atmosphere in the dark space with a tense laugh.

"I had a good time too, really. Maybe we'll try again some time?" He could be annoying, but his friendly demeanor is comforting, and makes me even more embarassed of my own behavior.

My cheeks blooming a fiery red, I hedge his question, saying "Thanks for this, Mike. See ya at school."

Several hours later, I find myself in the semi-aware state that is the closest I come to sleep on most nights. Hours of tears have made my face feel tight and swollen, my eyelids scrape across my vision, stinging like sand, and my whole body feels exhausted and achy and _empty._

A car pulls into the driveway, and I hear the familiar click of Charlie's police cruiser door a few seconds before the front door creaks open. Instead of the noises continuing into the kitchen they head up the stairs.

I turn over in bed, not wanting Charlie to see my splotchy, hollow face when he opens my door to check on me. A few seconds later I hear the turn of the knob and can almost feel the light from the hall spilling onto my covered back.

"Bella?" Charlie whispers. He's never tried to talked to me before on his rounds, and I'm sure that he's caught on to my ruse of sleep. He calls again, louder this time, "Bella?"

I fake a yawn and turn over to face him, trying to keep my features in the shadow of the quilt that I hold protectively around my body. I raise my eyebrow questioningly.

"What time did you get home?" Charlie asks, his voice still soft.

"About midnight", I answer, my voice a whispered echo of his own. I turn to my alarm clock, noting that I've been laying catatonic in my pain for only five hours.

"Did Mike Newton bring you home?" He asks, his face looking both tired and full of relief.

"Yeah, we went to dinner and a movie together. He asked me at school yesterday, I was going to tell you in the morning. You're not mad are you?" I'm confused by this pre-dawn interrogation, sure that Charlie would be happy with my attempt at a social life.

"Mike's parents are worried, he's not made it home yet and his phone's turned off. Did he mention any other plans?"

All too slowly, the pieces begin to fall into place in my aching, cloudy head. Flashes of the hours before play behind my eyes, and I hear my voice tell my father about the party taking place at the Mallory's across town.

At my answer, Charlie's face visibly lightens, his own thoughts turning toward this new - less tragic - outcome to his investigation. Charlie thanks me and leaves me alone in my bedroom, going to wrap up his case, no doubt irritated but amused at the thought of sending hungover teens scurrying back into the busoms of their parents.

Logically I know that's where Mike is, probably still sleeping off his night. But I can't help that some small part of me is _not_ sure that Mike is enjoying himself at Lauren's party, or passed out in the general vicinity of it. Some small, battered and twisted part of me _knows_ that Mike's car will not be in her drive.

For the first time in six months, a small, broken piece of me feels hope.

When Charlie returns three hours later, it's obvious that Mike was not at the party as expected. The lines of worry have returned to frame his puckered face, and he spends nearly an hour prying apart every second of Mike and I's time together, knowing that I was the last to see him. I tell Charlie about the stop on the cozy street, about the kiss, although it is mortifying.

After his relentless questioning, he left the house again after giving me a stern warning to stay inside, heading for the Newton's home where people were beginning to gather.

I stay in my room for a few more hours, feeling worry for Mike and trying to beat down the sick, blossoming hope that steadily pushes itself into my mind, carving its way into the cracks of my armour much like a perseverant vine might drive its roots into the mortor of an old brick wall. As my hope spreads my mood darkens, and I become more nauseated with the fact that I am internally celebrating the disappearance of a peer because it might relate to me.

If our date _was _the cause of this, then I should be terrified of what this means for me. Obviously, something has changed from when he left me, something has happened which would cause him to return, to once again take a fleeting interest in me or my friends.

Or it could be one _like_ him, maybe another nomad like James or one of his traveling companions. Maybe even after all this time, I still smell of him, and its calling others of his kind. The idea doesn't appall me nearly as much as it should.

If it _is_ him, he will find me - it will take very little effort on his part. If he didn't come for me first, there must be a reason.

_If_ it is him_._

But if its not him, then maybe the predator out there will have some sort of pity on me. Maybe it will kill me. Or better, change me.

Clinging to the morbid hope of him returning to me, _for_ me, I rise from my bed. Slamming the heavy front door behind me, I turn to walk behind my father's home, into the green, hazy thickness of the trees.

Because _if_ he is back in Forks, with Mike, or waiting for me, then I know I must go to him. I know if I don't, he'll come for me.

Anticipation and naseaus and cynacism all twist through me as I pick my way quickly through the foliage. Hope - a sick, naive sort of hope - shines through everything else, giving me the strength to move like this at all.

I'm not sure _what_ - exactly - I hope to find in the forest.


	3. Changed

**Changed**

**EPOV - **

Only two miles from the Swan house, I catch his thoughts coming from the highway. His mere proximity to her home causes a territorial growl to roll out of my chest.

He's happy, mostly - generally pleased with the way things progressed tonight. He hadn't been able to talk her into the party but he knew that was a long shot to begin with. He considers the interactions they'd had tonight to be definite progress, steps in the right direction. Heading for Lauren's house, he replays the earlier kiss in his mind, choosing to ignore the way that it had ended. Even though the sequence of that kiss had been looping in my mind for nearly two days, seeing it through his perceptions, knowing it actually _happened_, is devastating.

Mindlessly, I angle my body toward his thoughts; they grow louder the more distance I cover, until I can hear the steady beat of his heart as it rides with the rest of him – unaware - down the winding highway. His fingers beat a staccato rhythm onto the steering wheel and his mind fantasizes about different, happier endings to his earlier ministrations.

With the force of a train I hit the side of his sedan, knocking it clear off the road and into the trees that mark the beginning of the forest. He isn't wearing a seatbelt, and when his head makes contact with the passenger door hearing his thoughts jar is almost painful. Several of his ribs crack but it's the searing pain in his arm that keeps unconsciousness from taking him.

His thoughts are stuttering and coming in flashes, but he does notice that this crash is taking far too long, that the car can't possibly still be moving as it is. _**How did I get in the woods?**_

As I drag the car by the front axle through the heavy brush, his delirious and unbelieving thoughts come in between waves of pain. Eventually, I drag the car underneath a low-hanging branch and the hood is completely wrenched off - like the top of a tabbed can. I become visible to him through the spider webbed glass of his windshield and for the first time his muddled, human brain registers actual terror.

Not once has Bella crossed his mind since I collided with his car, and the errant thought makes me grin as I drag the mangled, metal coffin a little bit further into the cover of the trees. Finally, the garbled thoughts of the human boy succumb to shock and disbelief, and he fades into a fitful state of unawareness.

When he wakes, his head is literally pounding with the force of his concussion and the first thing he does - internally and linguistically - is groan an agonized whimpering sound. I can honestly say that I feel his pain in this respect, as his brain damage is causing his thoughts to be rather painful for both of us. The next thing he does is vomit all over himself and the leaves around him.

I feel his pain, but I don't sympathize with it. I can understand it...and possibly that makes this moment even better for me. I'm going to hear all of his pleas, even after his voice has deserted him.

I've laid his mangled body against a tree, having already disposed of his car while he laid slumped over and slumbering for well over four hours, his body trying desperately to deal with the rapid swelling of his brain.

It had taken the entire four hours and forty-seven minutes to dismantle and bury his car over the miles of wilderness around us. I'd damaged several trees when I hit his car and drug it further into the forest, and the only thing I could think to do about it was yank the mangled trees lining the road out the ground and replace them with better looking ones from deeper in the woods. It was definitely the most time consuming part, and the earth around the tree roots was freshly-turned and suspicious, but it's the best I could do.

If any human suspects, I'll deal with the consequences. Any wolves or vampires won't be fooled anyway, both the wreck scene and the area surrounding it stinks of my crime.

But it doesn't matter, because in a few hours I'll be gone, back into the night with the only thing in this God forsaken town I care about. The _only_ thing that matters.

The adrenaline and shock Mike's body provides him with numb the condition of his arm and torso, but the pain in his head is pressing and unavoidable. He is bleeding from several cuts scattered across his frame but I don't focus on them for now, I am still too wrathful to give in to the bloodlust.

I stand watching him a few feet away, and when his eyes finally find my shoes and travel up my trousers, terror envelopes him and his mind once again blacks out for a moment, leaving his eyes open and distant.

Finally he looks at me from underneath his sleepy lids and I see a grotesque picture of myself, reflected back at me through his scattering mind. Even with his distorted portrait the red eyes are unmistakable. I hadn't been able to make it to the wilderness in Rocinha, although I had abstained from human blood since.

_**What is he?**_ He thinks, his body nearly catatonic but his mind still reeling, trying desperately to understand what is happening - how to survive. _**What does he want?**_

"I am your death." I say to him, looking at him levelly and drilling into his eyes with my own. "Bella is mine." I say in answer to his second question, it seems obvious to me that he knows what I want, that very soon I will take what I want.

_**Bella? **_He asks, barely coherent anymore, and I realize that I won't be able to savor this like I'd thought about on the way from South America. He won't last much longer at all. All for the best, I still haven't made it to her house.

_**Is she like you?**_

"She will be." I state, seeing no reason to lie to him now. "You can't touch her." _You won't touch her. Never again._

Newton head lolls back against the tree and his eyes flutter closed, too heavy to lift, too heavy to fight. His body is relaxed now, he isn't breathing anymore.

_Flashes of a train car. The feeling of a nine year old girl's lips against his own - shy and joyful and embarrassing all at once. His mother's perfume smelled like lilacs, always, and she snorted when she laughed hard - which was often._ _Finally, a large dog snuggled in close to his face, tickling his nose and causing a high, childlike giggle to erupt from his chest. _None of his swirling and dream-like thoughts feature Bella, and for some reason that observation is the happiest moment of my life since I left her, I feel proud and dominant.

_She's mine! _My brain screams at me forcefully, joyfully.

In my instinctual, lethal state of mind, I want to feed from him. Now that the end is near I can't help but notice the cuts, the scent of fresh blood is sweetening the air around us. However, I can resist because I'm still full from my sprint through the favela only two days ago, and I know what blood I want to touch my lips next.

A few seconds later I can pick up nothing coming from him, his space on this earth is as silent as Bella's has always been.

I move closer, crouching down across from him while staring at his vacant face. I continue to stare at him like this for hours. No thoughts come to the section of forest where I've conquered my opposition - where I've irrefutably marked my claim. I listen to the chords and timbre of the forest change, signaling the changing of tides and heralding the brightening of the eastern sky. That is all that I hear.

I clean up the rest of the scene slowly, still relishing in the feeling of finality in my actions, but more importantly, in the determination of my thoughts. In my frenzy to get to her, to punish _him, _I've barely had time to plan for when I do reach her. I will change her. I have to. It's the only way that we can live, the only way she'll survive my obsession with her, my love for her. The only way that either of us will ever find happiness.

I fought against the realization so hard in the beginning. Alice had been the first one to bring it up, showing me a vision of us together, running gracefully through the old-growth forests - chasing one another playfully around the trees. I'd fought against that so hard, I'd never allowed myself one moment to indulge in the idea of oneness with her. Now, it's so obvious.

My body literally hums at the thought of tasting her blood, of allowing myself to feed from the flawless milky perfection that is the expanse of her throat. Or the petal soft skin of her inner thigh, skin I've never even touched. I feel my dick harden. I can't stop thinking about it now that the path is chosen. I need to feel the heat of her body against me, feel it pump into me, more than I've ever needed anything. More than I've needed any otherblood, more than I've ever wanted her body, more than I want revenge. Tasting her blood will mean she is truly mine. I see that now.

Yet here I still sit at the tree where Mike met his end. Something deep in me, a different kind of protector that seems foreign now, wants me to stay - _begs _me to stay. I can't.

I'm still two miles away from her house when I pick up her heartbeat, fragile but fast and I find myself automatically adjusting my breathing to coincide with my own, human metronome. I pick up her smell only seconds later, and I realize that she's not in her house like I expected, but wondering about in the woods nearly a quarter mile from her own backyard.

She is alone - unprotected - and the thought of it makes me want to rage about her lack of concern with safety. A rough, hysterical laugh bubbles from my lips as soon as the idea hits me, realizing that I am bothering myself with _safety_ when I am currently stalking through the forest intent on feasting from her tender, pulsing throat upon first sight of her. Her heartbeat echoes louder and louder in my ears until I am seconds from seeing her, only a few thousand leaves and fronds standing between me and the grail of my existence - the most powerful, lovely, tragic, maddening being on this earth.

I finally see her, a full three seconds before she spots me. Her presence stuns me. She had joked once upon a time that I dazzled her, but I think she had quite a limited understanding of what 'dazzling' could truly mean.

When I see her through the greenery - her pale, translucent skin stark against her wine and coffee hair and the leaves that surround us - all thought processes pause, all sensory information goes unnoticed, unanswered, and my legs stop moving as my speed ungracefully leaves me. I'm not breathing, but I can sense her scent like a blanket around me, coating me and laying heavily on my shoulders and tongue.

We make eye contact, and I know that she's sad, it's written all over her beautiful, doomed face. Her eyes are so full of sadness that it leaks from her in tears. But she doesn't seem surprised to see me, and after a few seconds she smiles. Fuck me if she doesn't grin a guilty, relieved smile that lights a torch in my heart and makes me want to sob all at once. She knows. I don't have to be able to read her mind to see that she knows what we are here for.

I take two more steps toward her before I pick up a swarm of thoughts. They are coming at us from four directions, approaching fast and screaming their intentions, knowing that I will hear them. Telling me to _**stop**__._

I hiss, but I'm unable to look away from her, I'm still marveling in being this close to her once again. The vampires closing in are close enough to smell now and my protective instincts finally kick into overdrive, causing my body to tense closer to the ground and my chest to rumble. Anger rushes through my body, building inside of me in waves, causing my shoulders and spine to tense in anticipation for the war that will commence. She is mine, and I step in front of her to face any and all who emerge from the forest.

Jasper is first, with Emmett close behind and while they've known for a few minutes where we are, they both pause when they finally catch sight of me standing in front of Bella with my lips drawn away from my teeth and my hands formed in to claws. Jasper attacks quickly, knowing I'll see his plans immediately and giving me little time to prepare. I manage to divert his teeth from their target of my shoulder and end up with his arm in my grasp. I give him a bite of his own. I spit out the flesh and sling Jasper's flailing body away from me, trying to put distance between the approaching males and my mate. I push Bella back onto the ground behind me as gently as my granite hands will allow and fling my body forward, meeting both Jasper and Emmett in a clashing of teeth and limbs.

Emmett's strength is overwhelming and it takes nearly all my physical power to thwart his attempts to hold my limbs down. Jasper's weapon rolls over me like crashing waves, tides of exhaustion and tranquility that constantly push against the fortress of primal anger that surrounds my mind.

Emmett, for the most part, skirts away from tearing me apart, but in the melee he eventually pulls one of my arms from my shoulder. The pain is severe and mind-boggling, I scream like a wounded hellcat.

I've never had a body part removed before, and I think that in any other circumstance the sensation would be enough to stun me to submission. But my mutilated body is all that stands between my mate and the opposition. I push away the pain and panic and focus on the hate I feel rushing through me, allowing me to fight until there is nothing left.

Suddenly, I realize that someone is behind me, perilously close to Bella. I turn quick enough to see Esme pluck her up from the spot she's lied frozen in since this started. This moment of distraction is all Jasper needs to pin me to the ground. I continue to gnash at my brothers and try to buck them off of me, but Rosalie arrives and jumps on as well, and my fighting is contained no matter hard I push or curse.

From my position on my stomach, I turn toward her, because she's screaming - fighting like I've never seen from her. Esme tries to hold her back without hurting her but Bella continually throws herself toward me, bruising herself on Esme's unforgiving arms.

She's lunging for me, and suddenly and new burst of energy shoots through me and I lift myself, Rosalie and a stunned Emmett off the ground. I lurch toward Bella - roaring - fighting with everything I have, but they take me down again.

"CHANGE ME! TAKE ME!" She screams, directing her pleas at me even though I'm not facing her anymore, trying instead to throw my siblings off again. She screams again and again, but I can't reach her, and eventually Esme contains her flailing limbs and moves swiftly through the forest with her.

Bella's scent is vanishing, Esme is whisking her away to God knows where and my siblings lie on top of me, holding me down as I fight still. I can't stop fighting. I have to get to her. She's all that matters to me now.


	4. Anger

**Anger**

**EPOV - **

"Edward! Edward, _fuck_ calm down! _Stop_!"

Jasper continues to yell directly in my ear and everyone's thoughts swarm around in my head like angry birds, pecking at me, snagging me.

Her smell is almost totally gone now, only lingering in wisps on the greenery that she touched and the air that she breathed. As the scent dissipates my anger subsides slightly but my desperation holds firm.

"AHH hahahahaa…ahhh!". I scream - sobbing - still struggling with all my might to get loose and follow her fragrant trail. All three of my captors only tighten their hold on me as inhuman yells and growls spill out of me. We must look so ludicrous out here, dog-piled on top of one another, my siblings all gripping me desperately, knowing that it will be quite a while before I regain control.

They're right. My mind is still reeling, grasping to form plans of escape. As the distance between us grows, my hysteria mounts.

_**Get a hold of yourself, Edward! Please! Stop fighting us. Please calm down, let me help you!**_

The individual thoughts of my siblings batter me, and I hitch in a few shallow breaths but it only succeeds in draining more of the fight out of me, my fury being replaced with deep seated self-loathing. I am failing as her protector, how can I allow myself to be held down after she's been taken?

"Carlisle's on his way, just a few more minutes now", I hear Rosalie say breathlessly, still struggling with my legs. Her thoughts are the quietest, but still whisper disbelief and pity.

"Bella! B-Bellaaa!" I scream in answer, still delirious and scattered, barely registering the name of my sire. "Please!" I manage to shout at no one in particular, my voice cracking with strain.

They are unrelenting, and I'm held down against my will for several more minutes, eventually settling down slightly under the direct pressure of Jasper's hands. While Rosalie continues to grapple with my legs Emmett lies across my chest, keeping me pinned firmly to the ground and incapacitating the use of my only attached arm. Jasper is pressing his cool hands into both sides of my face, conveying heavy doses of complacency which I fight relentlessly. His mind focuses on controlling his gift - giving me artificial peace while trying to ward off the unstable emotions that permeate the air around us. Jasper's eyes are clouded with his effort.

Suddenly Emmett sits up off of me, allowing me to wrench my arm from out between us and slap Jasper's palms away from my cheeks. Within seconds my other siblings stiffen as well, and I am obviously the last to notice the scent on the breeze, understandable given my level of distraction.

Wolf musk - heavy and noxious - floats toward us. At the edge of my range I hear the first, rabid thoughts of the angry pack.

"Carlisle's almost here", Rosalie states again.

"There's no time", Emmett says, "They'll catch u-"

"We wait. Alice is with him." Jasper's voice is firm. Seconds later, his phone rings. My siblings and I all cringe when Alice's voice screeches from the Bluetooth secured in Jasper's ear.

"I can't see you! I can't see any of you! Oh god, Jasper….oh god! I can't see a way through, I've been trying but everything's black! Jasper! I love you, I can't lose you!"

The pack's mind grows louder the closer they venture, and as I lie pinned to the forest floor, I see hundreds of flashes of my Beloved, each one slightly tinted by the perceptions of the mind that originally witnessed it. I see her directly after I left, curled up like a child in the dead leaves, misery pouring out of her and blue circles already making themselves at home on her face. I see her slight, soft body wither away until her translucent skin stretches over fragile, bird-like bones as tightly as a drum. Through one young pup's furious mind I witness Bella screaming, thrashing around in her tiny bed before being shaken awake by the viewer and a haggard looking Charlie.

The last thought startles me, and I nearly stop fighting my siblings while trying to locate this particular mongrel among his brethren, the one with obvious knowledge of my Beloved and her home. Eventually I pinpoint the boy and I realize it's Black's grandson. I growl deep in my chest, knowing of Bella's history with him. As my growl deepens my anger returns, coiling in my shoulders in chest.

I force myself to stay focused on that anger, knowing that if I delve too deep into the rest of it, I drown in my insanity again.

"We'll fight." I state. For now I have to concentrate on staying alive. I have to find her, take her back.

As I speak Emmett pushes my arm tightly back into its socket while still keeping a firm grip on my waist. Outwardly, he is still calm, but our struggle combined with the instinctual unease the wolf's smell brings is beginning to affect his mind's chemistry. He's becoming angry in a way I've rarely seen from him – preparing himself for battle.

"We run!" Jasper and Rosalie state together, half a second after I speak. The discussion is closed when we hear Carlisle echo the sentiment in the phone, his voice barely perceptible underneath the piercing wails of babbles of Alice.

I'm jerked off the ground by my siblings and we take off.

Emmett and Jasper still hold onto me, gripping my arm and shoulder respectively as we run through the trees. Bella's scent weaves around us, and while we aren't following her exact path the freshness of her trail tells me that we are headed roughly in her direction. The fact allows me to submit to my gruff escort away from my crime.

I may be able to outrun the pack on my own, but my siblings are not as quick, and the wolves are gaining on us at a rate that will end in our capture before we reach the sea.

The way the animals' minds work is astounding. Almost like an intranet of thoughts, each individual recording visual for group contemplation, processing ideas as one while still clinging to their own perceptions, offering up their own opinions. A single goal for all - different motives for each.

I see now that I am viewing the forest through two distinct angles. The wolves are flanking us, the second group barely out of our scent range but approaching quickly to ambush us. My siblings' minds are still unaware of the strategy, but it doesn't take long for comprehension to dawn in their eyes when they begin to feel enveloped in the horrible stench from all directions.

As we continue to run, we begin to hear the pounding of several dozen paws. I know from my gift that there are exactly eight wolves, but my siblings only know for sure that we are outnumbered. The same primal mindset that has taken root in Emmett's mind begins to form in his wife's as well. Emmett's grip on me loosens further and his other hand clasps Rosalie's tightly.

Alice is still screaming and pleading directly into Jasper's ear as we flee, but he can't bring himself to turn off the device even though strategically it is a distraction. Alice's power is impotent, no use but to cause cracks in his focus, but he is very aware that her hysterical yelling may be the last sound he ever hears. His own gifts make this situation especially difficult for him, even with all of his past practice, and the wolves' ire seems to press on him from all directions. Under our own anger and dread runs a ice cold stream of fear, he tries desperately not to think of it and cause it to grow.

Finally, Jasper's own fighting instincts begin to take hold; we will have our backs in a corner very soon.

"We fight!" I scream again, and it seems to be enough to resolve everyone's minds. Emmett and Jasper finally let go of me.

I turn immediately and let out a roar that momentarily stuns the young dogs surrounding us. Quickly they realize that the chase is over, and they sprint with a new level of rabid speed across the few hundred feet that still lies between us.

A large black wolf is the leader; the first turned…the alpha. He leaps through the cover of the trees, teeth and claws first – his powerful back legs pushing his body gracefully through the air, a full six feet off the ground.

I meet him with my feet planted firmly on the ground, my arms lifted up above my head - having the advantage of knowing all his well laid plans. My bloody hands wrap like vices around his throat and I use his own momentum to arc his body above me, falling backwards onto my back and slamming him his spine into the tree roots jutting from the ground. In the same second we land I twist my fists in opposite directions, much like an Indian sunburn, and without ceremony the black dog's neck cracks and his heavy body goes lax.

Immediately the pack's mind seems to implode, all of its bureaucratic order gone. Now there is only revenge and bloodlust and rage. I barely have time to sling myself up off my back before seven more blurs of red, gray and black streak forward to meet us.

_**A/N: Bella's chapter will be out by the end of the day. More of an author note on that one as well. Stay tuned…**_


	5. Sickness

_**A/N: OK guys, so here's the deal….**_

_**When I first started toying with this idea in my head, I was really excited about it and thought that it would be a great follow-up to Penance. I flip-flopped between this story line and another one, something completely different from Penance and where I plan to go with this story. In the end, I chose to pursue Triggered because I thought it would garner a better audience response.**_

_**But I haven't gotten very much feedback on this story so far, even though it's been receiving a decent amount of hits. I find it much harder to write without some kind of reassurance. Guess I'm just needy like that. **_

_**So now I'm left wondering if I made the right decision when choosing my next project. Because I'll be honest, if you aren't digging the roughness of this story so far, you probably aren't going to like where it's going…**_

_**I'm going to do a little experiment, and I'm asking you, dearest reader, to aide me in my research. I've posted a prologue to something quite different on my profile. Maybe when you're done here, you can go check it out. Then, let me know which you would rather see develop. **_

_**I crave your reviews, and I want my contributions to this community to be well-received. Help me make my writing better.**_

_**So, for your consideration, chapter 5 of Triggered.**_

My head is_ pounding._

Each pulse of my heartbeat reverberates through my body, pushing against my eyelids and causing a splitting pain to bloom from a point on the back of my head.

I suddenly realize I'm lying on something soft, and that my eyes are closed and heavy.

The last thing I remember is flying. In the past six months I'd craved that feeling, but now I know that it isn't the running I miss, but the closeness to him that it provided. When Esme was running with me through the woods, I didn't take any time at all to enjoy it. I fought against her grip even as she sprinted with me and cooed reassurances. I can remember the crushing pressure of her grip as I struggled, then a moment of light before everything went black.

Esme had knocked me unconscious.

I finally open my eyes and scan the darkened room I am lying in. Esme is sitting in an outdated chair about four feet from the foot of my bed, rocking herself while staring at a cell phone resting silently on a cheap, particle-board desk.

Before I have time to say a word, Esme jumps up from her seat and slings open the hotel room door. She's silent for another half a minute then slings herself forward through the doorway, falling into a set of arms that I hadn't even heard approaching.

"Carlisle!" She cries into his neck, choking the words out around her sobs. Carlisle grips her waist tightly, burying his nose in her perfect hair and inhaling.

The act makes me cringe and look away, the familiar empty feeling enveloping me.

I finally see Alice standing outside of the room, watching the reunion in front of her with a look on her face that matches the way that I feel. Esme seems to notice her standing there in the same moment that I do, and she frees one arm from around her husband to pull her adopted daughter into their embrace. Alice succumbs to her affection with the same glazed look on her face. She whimpers.

"Have you heard anything?" Carlisle asks, his voice sounding defeated.

Esme shakes her head, sparing another glance at the phone on the desk. Heartbreak is clear on her face as she steps further back from Carlisle, putting her hands on the sides of his face.

"Where's Edward?" I finally speak, and everyone in the room looks at me as if just remembering that I'm present for this strange, sad reunion. My eyes flicker from face to tortured face, finally settling on Alice's, who I know possesses the answer to my question. The expression on her face is the saddest of all.

"I can't see them. I think they're gone."

_Gone. _What a foreign concept. What an incomprehensible idea. A surreal numbness seems to have blanketed me, but I can feel something black and desperate flowing through me, building up in my system, filling up my lungs and airways – rising inside my throat like an unrelenting, unstoppable tide.

Not a second too soon I stumble toward the bathroom and vomit in the sink.

_Gone._

_Oh god._

I stand bent over my mess, breathing heavily and squeezing my eyes shut – hovering between disbelief and panic. My pull my breath in with noisy, shallow rasps. The room spins and blurs.

Carlisle and Esme gasp, I imagine in reaction to my eminent faint. I notice through my haze that the whole atmosphere of the room seems to change again, and I turn back to the others to see a familiar, distant look on Alice's face. She's either permanently checked out on us or she's having a vision, and we all wait on baited breath for the answer.

She finally exhales loudly and says flatly, "I saw Jasper. He's with Rose and Emmett, they're still running, playing with where to go. He's alive." With that, she sinks down onto the floor, sitting cross-legged for a moment before straightening her legs and lying back onto the carpet completely, closing her golden eyes. She looks exhausted.

"He's alive." She repeats softly, seemingly to herself.

We all stare at her still, waiting for more news – impatient but hesitant to interrupt her eerie calmness.

"Where's Edward?" This time it's Carlisle who asks.

"I didn't see him" she says, her eyes still closed.

Bile fills my mouth again.

The phone on the table rings. Carlisle snatches it from the desk and flips it open.

"Jasper," he breathes, "You're OK? What happened?"

The vampires in the room listen to his answer, but I can only wait helplessly for news. I can't believe yet that he's gone. It will be the end of everything. _There's no proof yet that he's dead. _I cling to the idea like a lifeline, trying to keep my head up above the flood of emotion. I border on hyperventilation.

"Where is he?" Carlisle says, and the two words cause hope to crack through my haze. I jagged sob breaks through my lips. Esme walks into the bathroom and places her hand on my shoulder but continues to stare silently at Carlisle, who is holding the phone to his ear intently.

"You should come here. We'll regroup and plan our next course of action. I don't think he'll be able to stay away for long anyway." Carlisle listens for another beat. "Let's hope so. We need to get further away from there."

Jasper speaks for another moment, and then Carlisle sighs and shakes his head. "No. We'll talk about it when you get here."

Carlisle holds the phone toward Alice, who reaches for it before her gaze slides past Carlisle's outstretched hand to the blank space on his right. We all wait.

"He's coming. If you miss the ten o'clock flight, he'll beat you back here." Alice is obviously talking to her siblings on the phone, but she looks directly at me as she speaks.

For the first time in over half a year, a genuine smile brightens my face.

Carlisle stares at me with something like confusion and pity on his face. He shakes his head at me, and then continues to speak. "Please hurry, we'll need you here for when he arrives."

Alice nods her head gravely.

"He'll feed on the way here." She says almost absently. The quiet statement doesn't bother me nearly as much as it should.

It's absolutely sick that the revelation doesn't wipe the smile off my lips. Neither does the disbelief or disappointment shining on Carlisle, Esme and Alice's faces.

"We love you." Carlisle says into the phone, finally lowering it and closing it absently. I have everyone's attention now. I try to control the wild euphoria growing in me, I should be thinking of Mike's family. I should feel guilty.

I wish I could lie. But it's obvious that they can all see my bizarre emotions written plainly on my face. I can't even be embarrassed.

"Look, I'm not really sure what's happening but I just want to say that I'm really glad to see you all. Things have been….hard without you. But I feel like that's not really the most appropriate thing to say." They confirm my statement by continuing to stare at me like an unsolvable puzzle. They simultaneously turn their gazes from me to one another, having one of the silent, vampire conversations which annoyed me before but only comforts me now.

Esme, who still has her hand resting on my shoulder, gives me a gentle squeeze then meets Carlisle by the door to the hotel room. Alice also stands, but only moves to sit down on the bed and pats the comforter in invitation.

"Where are we?" I ask her, feeling out her odd mood. Carlisle and Esme exit the room and click the door shut.

"Alaska. Esme ran you to our airstrip and flew you here." She stares at the wall and I imagine she's experiencing another vision, but she continues our conversation casually. "Thank God she got out of the forest as quickly as she did." I want to ask about her absent musing but she begins again. "They should all be here in about four hours."

Another obscene grin pulls up my lips, and Alice greets it in much the same way that Carlisle did, pity and sadness pouring from her honey eyes.

When I settle beside Alice she picks up my hand, and looks into my eyes sympathetically. "You won't be able to see Edward for a while."

I don't react to her statement because I simply don't believe it. Her opinions on this matter are inconsequential, because I know that he'll find me. And I know that I'll go to him.

So instead, I just stare at her.

Her eyes glaze over with a new vision, but what she sees doesn't seem to change her demeanor. She only sighs speaks again.

"I mean it Bella, you can't see him. Edward has…undergone a change of sorts. I've seen what will happen when he finally gets to you. You won't survive it Bella."

I continue to stare. I already know all these things – I've already accepted them.

"You'll die, Bella! Not change – die! He won't be able to stop." Those words finally break through to me; and comprehension flickers inside my eyes. My smile finally falls - forgotten - from my lips.

"I haven't figured out how to stop it yet. But I know how to stall it, I think. We'll think of something." Her grip on my hands tightens again in reassurance, but the extension of my life brings me only more anguish – not relief.

Suddenly, I am struck by an idea that seems to be the answer to everything.

"Carlisle can change me." I state, not even contemplating the long-term consequences of my decision, only knowing that _nothing _could be worse than the ache that had owned me during his absence. I can't go back to that.

"Carlisle can't change you." She says with another sigh, this one more exasperated than the last.

"Why not?" I childlessly sling back.

"Because Edward would kill him." Alice states, with a grim finality that finally chills me. For the first time I view Edward's behavior as a whole. I work quickly through every violent situation, and I begin to feel the weight of all that has changed. I still don't even know what happened for all of them to fall out of Alice's visions.

I wonder what Edward did to escape his siblings.

As I process these things Alice continues to speak in her soft but knowing voice, the one that garners no argument from those that truly know her.

"If anyone changed you now, Edward would kill them. He wouldn't ever forgive it, he may never forgive you for it either. You need to understand what's happening here, Bella. Edward is not the same."

_**A/N: Please go read the first installment of my alternate story 'Acclimation', a prologue entitled "Relief". I appreciate every single review and take each idea and opinion very seriously. Thank you for your continued support!**_


	6. Pursuit

_**Chapter 6 - Pursuit**_

I stop running, scouring the forest around me for any thoughts - any heartbeats. I hear only deer, drinking from a stream a few miles away. The wind blows into my face and I take it in, cataloging the scents and tastes that it carries from further north.

I sit down on a tree stump, feeling confident about the lead that my speed provides me with and mostly sure that my siblings would use air transportation anyway. Its what I would have done, had I not had to consider the risks involved in being in close quarters with humans in my condition. Public attention or outcry would not be prudent right now.

Needless to say, I had went absolutely insane when I reached the airstrip and realized that flight had also been Esme's chosen method of travel. When I arrived Bella's strawberry smell was just beginning to dissipate, being overtaken by the stench of burnt gas and exhaust.

Eliminating the threat of the wolves had taken longer than expected. They attacked us in groups; they used their numbers to the best of their advantage but eventually we incapacitated them one by one, killing two of the younger recruits.

Jacob was on of the first injured, but he got up several times and caused both Rosalie and Emmett a number of problems. By the end of the melee, most of the wolves were writhing in pain and cowing in fear. They ached for mercy or escape from the cold devils they hunted. But even after Black's grandson had been literally crushed, he still only harboured hatred and thoughts of revenge. His internal dialogue promised retaliation, but because of his condition I choose not to let the threat trouble me much for now.

When there was only two wolves remaining, standing back to back between Jasper and Emmett, I took off after Bella's trail. My siblings injured the two wolves quickly then took off after me once again.

I uprooted nineteen trees before Jasper reached me and placed a well-meaning hand on my shoulder. I hadn't sensed his approach and I lashed out at him, still violently angry that Bella was gone again. I stood at the dead-end trail of her scent.

"WHERE IS SHE!" I roared, spitting venom toward Jasper and the others, who had just arrived behind him. They all flinched at the hostility in my voice, the primal dominance in my eyes.

But they were also all well-practiced, and instead of answers, I got algorithmic formulas and engine specs and battle hymns. I roared again, this time not even bothering with words.

I approached Jasper then, who's thoughts were flickering between 'The Calvary March' and focusing his powers on me, trying to calm me down. Like Emmett, he didn't want to hurt me - and I planned to use that to my advantage.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE!" I screamed at him again, reaching out and grabbing his neck, causing his hand to dart up and grab my arm. His eyes were huge - scared and angry.

Emmett came at me then, so I released my grip on Jasper and turned toward him and his mate. I growled, resting my weight on the balls of my feet, waiting for his move. Behind me, Jasper was gasping, already steeling himself to launch onto my back.

Meanwhile, the bolt patterns of Mustang Shelby rims listed by chronological model year were stuttering in the forefront of Rosalie's mind. Beneath that was strong animosity towards me - bordering on hatred - and fear for her husband, her family. For one split second, I saw Esme smiling at her earlier in the day, sharing a silent parental moment with her while the rest of the family continued on with their quick closing down of shop, packing and loading boxes with the most precious of their things, waiting on their flight to intercept me on my way to Forks.

Their connection was interrupted by Emmett, who was spouting off a list of all available flight plans to her, all heading for the same city.

A crowded city that would make it harder for me to locate them, where the density of thoughts would make it much harder for me to look.

A city within personal aircraft distance. A city close to friends. A city that I knew immediately, although admittedly not as well as others. In a split second, I knew. I knew before Rosalie even noticed that she'd told me.

When she realized where her thoughts had wandered, she immediately looked up at me. I smirked.

"Shit." She whispered.

As soon as Jasper's feet left the ground I bolted, ducking underneath his embrace and gliding past a startled Emmett as well. He managed to latch onto my arm as I passed him and he jerked me back to facing him. I yanked my arm out of his grasp and growled primally - giving my last warning - causing Jasper and Rosalie to pause in their pursuit as well. For a few seconds calmness ruled this litte corner of the forest, as we all stared at each other expectantly.

Emmett was the first to crack, he decided to wrap me in a bear hug, ideally calming me but at the very least containing me. When he reached out his left hand I slapped it away and hissed - and when he followed with his right I turned my head to the left and caught his first two fingers between my teeth.

I clamped down and felt them go limp in my mouth as I separated them from his hand.

He yelped and went down, and I took off running once again.

When I had cleared about a half mile of distance I spit the appendages onto the swiftly moving ground below me.

Rosalie came after me, nearly mad with rage, but after a few miles the gap between us widened and her thoughts eventually turned away from revenge and towards her mate. She slowed, then turned, picking up the discarded fingers along her way back.

I'm sure that my siblings will beat me to Anchorage. Carlisle and Alice must also be closing in as well, and I wonder what my omnipresent sister sees in my future at this very moment. Perhaps it's merely a swirling vortex of blur, constantly changing and remolding itself - evolving. Perhaps she sees my fate as clearly as she had in the beginning - back when I was too afraid and weak to accept it.

I know that _I've_ decided to change her - so perhaps Alice is once again seeing the bright red eyes of a newborn Bella. The thought makes my head spin with wonder but also unease. I shake it off, reminding myself that this is the only way forward.

I wonder in which part of the city my destiny will be waiting for me. Will Carlisle move to the center of the city, counting on safety in numbers? Will he try to hide her on the fringes of the city - move with her frequently in an attempt to stay ahead of me?

I wonder if he knows that by choosing a particular area of town he is putting its residents in grave danger. I wonder if he'll take that into consideration when he chooses which neighborhood to hide her in.

I use my quick breather on this tree stump to ponder these kinds of things. I also think of other things - logistical things - but I try to decide nothing. Just note ideas for now.

They will have many advantages. For one, their location is still fuzzy for me, and it could always change. Even when I do locate them, I'm still grossly outnumbered. They will have had time to devise a plan, defenses, they will be lying in wait for me when I arrive. And of course, there is Alice - our family's greatest asset.

I also have my weapons. For one, I have something driving me that is more powerful than anything any one of them had experienced. I have my love for her - which trumps all else.

I am also faster then them. I am cunning. I am more powerful, and I have the potential to be even more powerful still.

I turn my face into the wind again, waiting for a decent gust to carry the aromas and tastes of the town about two miles north. The little outcropping of businesses and homes clustered around a less-than-prosperous plastics factory is familiar to all in my family, as we pass through it occasionally when traveling in between our home and Denali.

On the outskirts of the sleepy town is a motel, painted a faded, dirty yellow. I head toward it, steeling myself to accept the thoughts that will begin to fill my mind in mere seconds. I follow the faint traces of blood and exhaust further north, preparing myself to choose. To hunt.

To ready myself to take her.

Finding my family in the city is obscenely easy. First, they make the mistake of flying into a known airport, one that we've used before and only the third stop on my list. The second mistake they make is meeting at a hotel, then heading out again under the cover of night to a larger cottage that Alice had saw would be unoccupied for several weeks.

They should have known that allowing my Beloved to walk the street was like splashing her path down the sidewalk with loud, red paint. Her scent hangs in the air like a banner, they might as well have left arrows for me to follow.

They should have kept her inside as much as possible. I will.

I think even without the scarlet banner of her scent I would have found her quickly. Even miles before I reached the city I could feel a pull toward the quiet neighborhoods at the south side of town, where my family lay in hiding with her. I stuck to my plan and searched for the airport she landed at, then tracked her from there. Eventually my scent trail and the magnetic pull settle in the same direction, and I head for the south side of the city.

Within a mile of the house her scent becomes stronger considerably. I want to run for her, but I learned my lesson the last time. My family won't hold me down again while they disappear with her. I will control this situation now.

I finally hear her heartbeat. Or feel it, rather, I guess would be a better description. It's physically impossible that I can hear the quiet whisper of it before the louder voices of my family. But I can. I can feel it flutter rhythmically - picking up speed as if she is as aware of this inescapable magnetic pull as I am.

I bask in her scent for a few more minutes, relishing each reverberation of her pulse, delaying my next move because moving into their thought range will mean that they could smell me if the wind blew in the right direction. Or if they are scouting - which is a definite possibilty.

I finally figure that Alice already knows I'm out here anyway, so I sacrifice my advantage of stealth for the more useful advantage of telepathy.

Within a few steps I begin to hear Carlisle, and his thoughts make it clear that he is waiting for me, trying to convey only happiness and relief at my presence but not quite disguising his fear. As I approach I can hear them all, positioned in between me and the galloping heartbeat of my mate, making their intentions clear. Only Carlisle's thoughts are wholly unhostile.

"I'm glad that I finally get to talk to you son. I wish we could have handled this better from the start in Rio." He takes a step closer to me, as if to put a little more distance between us and the family still a half mile off through the trees. "I wish we would have made a different decision about leaving Forks to begin with. I"m sure you agree now that it was the wrong decision."

Carlisle's thoughts virtually mirror his words, a true statement to the type of person my sire is. It makes it harder to be angry with him, but not impossible. He is still one of the six that stand between me and my mate.

So I only nod, because his statement is true enough. It was the wrong decision to leave her.

"Could we take a walk?" Carlisle asks suddenly, and I stare at him for a moment, stunned by his request. The rest of the families' thoughts balk as well, anxious at the idea of him wandering further away with me.

Under different circumstances, I may have been insulted.

I don't nod this time, but Carlisle still begins to lead me away from the family and the quiet residential neighborhood. Eventually I follow, foolishly hoping that I may be able to reason my way into contact with Bella. In all honesty, I really don't know why they are keeping her from me with such tenacity - other than to punish me for my actions involving her date.

Actions that were unfortunate, but not in my control.

"I wont mince words with you Edward," my father's voice startles me, "It wouldn't do much good anyway." He sighs and continues to talk as we stroll deeper into the forest. I hope he knows better than to think that he can lead me away from her heartbeat.

"If you see Bella right now, you will kill her." I'm not capable of processing those particular words in that order. I shake my head.

"You will drain her no matter how many of us are present. Not even Emmett wil be able to pull you off of her in time. Alice has been playing with different scenarios for days, but she always gets the same results. Bella dies, every single time."

"No," I say quietly, still unbelieving. "I've drank from her before. I can stop again."

"Things are different now. You know that. You're new eating habits will make that kind of control impossible for you." For the first time, my father looks me dead in the eyes, and I only remember my ruby irises after I've already seen them reflected back at me in his mind. I don't need telepathy to see the disappointment there.

"I only fed so that I could - "

"I know why you fed." He interrupted me. "You fed so that you would be stronger than us, and so that you could overpower us." His voice sounds sad and flat, and even though I can't bring myself to make eye contact with him he continues to glower at me.

"I came out here to tell you that if you get to her, you'll kill her. That's all. Esme says that she loves you, that we all love you. Edward, look at me."

Silence follows for several seconds, and when he asks me again in his thoughts I finally raise my gaze to him. His eyes are pleading, but firm.

"We want you to come back to us, Edward. You've got to push past this and come back to us, to Bella. Tell me what we can do for you."

I just stare at him for several more seconds, finally understanding the sadness in his eyes. I had killed three people since I fled Rio. I had fed from two.

A shrill ring pierces the silence that had followed Carlisle's plea. He finally breaks eye contact with me to glance at the face of his phone, and I see that its Alice. She must know that we're having this conversation, so we're both sure she's interrupting for a reason. Carlisle flicks open the phone.

"Alice?" He says, a soft, fatherly lilt to his voice.

"Hey Carlisle, it's not Alice." The most beautiful voice in the world feels the dead space around me. With only five words spoken so far, I am already entranced.

_I've killed three people._

"Are you with him?" She nearly whispers, obviously growing impatient with Carlisle's lack of response. She is answered with only silence again, because Carlisle has removed the phone from his own ear and is now holding it out to me, bobbing it slightly in offering.

_**Come back to us, Edward.**_

I take the phone, my hands are trembling and I harsh sigh pushes all the breath out of me. Carlisle still waits, tension hanging in the air around us.

"Edward?" She says finally, and the sound of my name on her tongue is the most earth shattering thing I've ever heard. The reverence and hope in her tone cause me to nearly choke on my happiness. My love for her explodes out my chest.

Then the panic and dread come because I'm not worth any of it. That the odds are nearly certain that she will die by my hand, which will certainly result in my own non-existence.

I can't even go to her.

I lift the phone to my ear to hear her hyperventilating at the other end and panic makes my tongue so thick that I have to attempt three times to choke out her name. When I finally get the word out she breaks in to jagged sobs.

"I, I've killed three people." I say stupidly. I begin my own series of hitches and gasps.

She's still crying so hard that her breathing is difficult, and finally she stutters out, "I kn, kn, know."

_**A/N: Three things:**_

_**1) I need a beta. I think it would really help me be more punctual with getting my stuff out and hopefully it would get me a better response and improve my over all writing style. If you are interested or know someone who is...PM me.**_

_**2) I already have about half of the next chapter written, also from Edward's point of view. I'd like to get...maybe...6 reviews before I post it. Shameless?...Maybe but come on, I really need the inspiration and maybe a little encouragement? Plus, that's like a sadly low goal, so maybe that means I'm not asking too much? Lord knows you're positive thoughts, ideas and even criticisms make me put more of myself into my writing. So come on...6?**_

_**3) I'd like to send a personal shoutout to reviewers MyHeartBelongstoEdwardCullen, Marissa87, radioactive77 and sunnywitch. Your thoughts are always read and appreciated.**_

_**Oh, and finally, expect Acclimation to be updated over the weekend...if you're interested.**_

_**Thanks again**_

_**M.M. **_


	7. Epiphany

**Chapter 7 - Epiphany**

Even hearing Bella blubber on the other end of the phone, I still can't bring myself to believe Alice.

I know it's stupid – I know that 'you shouldn't bet against Alice' and that she wouldn't ban me from Bella's presence unless she had a damned good reason. Logically, I know all these things.

But what I also know is that Alice's visions are subjective. I've witnessed their frailty myself, I've seen them change and evolve and grow – I've seen them disappear.

Mere hours ago she had seen all of our deaths yet here I stand, listening to the bittersweet sounds of my mate's sorrow.

So it's really not about the death that she's seen for Bella. It was definitely necessary for me to hear about it (in fact I'm rather surprised that Alice didn't tag along with Carlisle to give me the whole show) but that is only so that I could plan my next moves accordingly.

Alice's visions - to me - represent a warning, not a truth. Now that I know how I will react to her, I can change that future.

I decide all these things in mere seconds, and even with all the plots swarming around in my head my vampire mind still has time to catalogue every sniffle and sob that my love bestows upon me. I still have room to share her heartbreak.

I will not interrupt her tears – crying is cathartic for humans – I only wish that I could do more for her. Right now, this is what she needs the most. I do make noises. I coo to her and gently shhh her occasionally, but I never ask her to stop.

Eventually, she speaks again; her voice soft and shy, still so very alluring.

"Alice says I can't see you for a while."

I don't answer with a yes or no, because I haven't decided how to handle this demand yet. I don't want to either, until I have to.

I have to keep my head, play my advantages. I will use whatever means necessary to get to her.

But I also have to comfort her – my treasure. My reason for everything else.

"I do want you to be safe, love. That's what I've always wanted for you. Do you know that?"

"Yes," she whispers.

"But I have to be with you Bella. I see that now. And I'll come for you." I try to keep my voice soft, I use the velvet tone that used to be a weapon for coercion, but which now solely belongs to my Beloved.

Her breathing is evening out now, and I listen to it contently for another few moments.

"I love you," she whispers to me in a tone so fragile that it makes me cringe.

"Oh god, Bella, I love you too. So much. I love you so much. I, I...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry love." I cover my eyes with my hand, dragging my palm down my face as I squeeze my lids shut. When I open them I spare a glance towards Carlisle, who's standing with his back to me a few feet away.

She's crying again. The longer the sounds continue the more out of control I feel. I'm losing patience and I'm growing frustrated at the impotence of being so close to her yet unable to offer her anything more than my voice over the telephone.

"You still love me? You want me?"

Her questions make me want to scream. Of course I want her! Doesn't she see what I've done for her? I've forsaken my morality, my family's trust, my father's pride, my self-respect. I've laid it all down on the path to her. How could she question that now?

"I love you so much it kills me." My voice sounds flat but at least I manage to hide the bite that wants to seep through.

"When are you coming?"

"Stay away Edward! What the fuck are you thinking?" Alice screams at me, obviously eavesdropping in whatever space Bella is occupying. I'm sure it just sounds like a bratty screech to Bella, but I can hear the venom and hostility in her words.

I word my answer carefully.

"I have to prepare myself to see you again, Bella. The choices that I've made in the last few days; they have consequences that I'm going to have to deal with. But no matter what, love; you need to understand that I love you more every single minute every day, and everything that I do – everything I've _done_ – has been for you."

Carlisle obviously doesn't like my response, he's afraid that Bella will infer that she is somehow responsible for the violence that I've perpetrated. But I know better. I know _her_ better than that.

I can literally hear her smiling in the phone when she says, "I love you too Edward. I'll be waiting for you."

"I know love. I'll be there as soon as I can. I love you." I want to repeat the sentiment a thousand more times, but Bella yawns and Carlisle holds his hand out expectantly.

The condescension that accompanies this move makes me bristle, but I fight to hold on to my civility for a few more seconds.

"Go to sleep my Bella. I'll see you soon."

"Goodnight," she sighs into the phone, then she flips it closed and the call ends. I hold onto the device for a few more seconds before I hand it back to Carlisle.

We stand in silence for a few moments – well at least silence for him. His thoughts still speak to me, they ask me how I plan to acclimate myself to Bella and how I plan to salvage our relationship in the meantime. He's wondering if I'll stay away willingly. He's doubting his earlier decision to face me without the protection of any other family members.

"Ask Bella to send me things – things with her scent. I'll start there."

He's surprised by how sane my words are considering the way that I look. He takes advantage of this clarity.

"Where are you planning to stay? I could have Esme look for housing in the area…" his sentence hangs in the air while he contemplates his next words carefully, "…if you are planning on re-adopting our hunting habits. I can't let you put the family or Bella in danger by feeding in the area." His resolve hardens further and he continues, "How you choose to sustain yourself is your own decision. But I won't let you endanger my family. And I won't allow you to take a human that my family loves and turn her into a hazard to the people of this town."

I'm impressed by his audacity until he reaches the end – then instantly I am furious. A territorial growl rolls out of my chest and I push myself nose to nose with my creator. I speak slowly, softly.

"Bella is mine. She can stay with the family while it is what's best for her – but make no mistake who she belongs to. I will decide what becomes of Bella. She is _my_ mate. I _dare_ you to challenge that."

His face shows none of his fear, but he can't hide it all from me.

I turn my body away, not breaking our eye contact until necessary. I head into the forest, but then round back on Carlisle again, internally enjoying his flinch.

I snatch the phone away from him and then stalk back towards the trees.

A few hours later, I am draining the blood out of a deer, making a face while I eat that is much like the face of a toddler being forced to eat unappetizing vegetables.

The blood running down my throat tastes like sawdust. It possesses infusions of sour berries and lawn clippings, but mostly it reminds me of wood. Flavorless, lifeless wood.

The thing that makes me the most angry at Carlisle is that he thinks that I wouldn't stop hunting humans if it meant being close to Bella. The only reason I began hunting humans in the first place was because it was conductive at the time to reaching her. Now, it is no longer necessary.

Unless it becomes necessary again, I will stop.

Seeing as they've all found the vampires they consider to be their soul mates, you think they could understand my situation a little better. None of them seem to be able to grasp that Bella is _everything. _That I'll do anything to have her.

As for his implications of how I should 'raise' Bella once she changes – well that is completely none of his concern. Since he's already showing that he will have a hard time taking a passive role in the first few years of her new life, I have to start planning on how to separate myself from them.

This obstacle is formidable in itself for several reasons – first and foremost, Alice. It's rather difficult to hide from a clairvoyant.

I finish the deer and shove the body into the cavernous root system of a large spruce. I start picking my way through the vegetation slowly, wandering without much paying much attention until I hear another heartbeat in my area. Then I take off again after another fur-covered bag of blood.

Before I reach the fox I'm chasing, I run right through another scent that makes me feral and nauseous at the same time. The stench burns my nostrils with its potency – and it makes my chest rumble, almost absently, while my back tenses up and my fingers curl into claws.

I'm obviously downwind of the offensive odor, and the strength of the smell leads to me to believe that there is more than one werewolf emitting it. But to know for sure, I need to go closer.

I take to the trees, where it will much harder for the dogs to follow me. I approach quietly, and when I hear the thoughts it's obvious that they are, as yet, unaware of me.

Make no mistake…I am featured in the hateful, sadistic thoughts…but the thinker has not realized that he has happened upon his opportunity at revenge.

I hear only one young mind now, but I'm sure his brethren are close, probably just out of my power's range. I listen closely for them, but I hear nothing of their physical presence, nor do I hear the boisterous contributions that usually bounce around inside each individual's head.

All I hear are the black, vengeful thoughts of Jacob Black. He is alone in his rage.

After a few more minutes of reconnaissance, I realize that he truly is alone. Somehow, he's separated his mind from the pack. I'm curious as to how, but there's no trace of that truth floating around his consciousness.

I decide to stay hidden for now, hopeful that I can decipher what has happened to his family – if they are still a threat to us.

I probably could have stayed hidden up in the trees for hours, but my phone begins ringing shrilly through the forest.

Jacob jumps up, crossing the half mile between us in seconds, finally catching my scent and losing his mind in a red, blazing fury of instinct and hate.

Alice's name flashes on the screen of the phone, I hesitate. Bella has no phone of her own, so this may very well be her calling again. I contemplate the odds while another compartment of my brain calculates the dwindling distance between Jacob's teeth and my tree.

I answer the phone, because if there's any chance that I can hear Bella's voice I have to take it. However, it's not Bella's voice that greets me. Alice's sobs push through the earpiece and immediately, I want to slam the phone shut.

"What are you doing? Stop it, Edward, I can't see you! I lost you again!"

I shut the phone and cram it in my pocket. I move with inhuman speed through the treetops, listening to Jacob's paws smack the ground below me. I head for a large river a few miles away, and when I reach it I jump completely over, barely landing on the other cliff bank nearly six hundred feet away.

The dog doesn't risk it. He bows up on the opposite shore and howls at me, screaming obscenities and threats at me in his mind. I just keep running, blocking out his thoughts long before the distance alone will do it for me.

I don't have time to listen to his sniveling. It won't change anything, except possibly make me even angrier at him for continuing this battle. He can't see that he's already lost. He is young and naïve and in love, and none of those things are in my control.

I have to think of the things that I can control. I have to strategize and use all of my advantages, however slight, to reach my ultimate goal. I have to change her – by whatever means necessary. After that, I will deal with the consequences. Not before, while she is still fragile and her presence here on this earth is so transient and unsure.

I have a new advantage now. It can't solve all my problems but it affords me new possibilities, this recent epiphany that my run-in with the mongrel has triggered.

Alice, my all-seeing, omnipresent sister – the greatest offensive and defensive weapon the Cullen family possesses – has a disadvantage of her own.

Alice can't see Jacob Black.

_**A/N: So I know I said I'd make you wait until I got six reviews, but I did get five and they were all pretty awesome so . . . I obviously make empty threats. **_

_**But I really like this particular chapter, I think it deserves some love. Please feed my addiction and leave me your thoughts.**_

_**I'm still on the search for a beta…**_

_**Oh, and a very special shout out to I Am Devonna Ransom (future world dictator), sugari6, sexymama25 and Adeli. I hope I can keep your attention for a good while longer…**_

_**Go check out Acclimation – for some reason it's not showing on up FFn right now other than on my profile. Hmm. Not really sure what to do about that.**_


	8. Gifts

_**A/N: Hello all, hope you enjoyed your weekend.**_

_**This chapter is slower paced, but this is a bit of what Bella's been dealing with since this journey started. Another Edward chapter is up next (and about 90% complete) and he's got a bit more going on in this time period.**_

_**Reviews are like Scooby snacks for writers – the ultimate form of encouragement.**_

_**In case it helps to persuade you, the next chapter is also a bit….tart. You'll see what I mean.**_

_**Chapter 8 - Gifts**_

I wake up in a startled sort of way, sitting straight up in the large bed and breathing through my nose for a few moments before opening up my eyes. I 'm consumed by the terrible, heavy feeling that one gets when waking up from a particularly intense dream. I feel exhausted yet rested, and everything about the room around me seems surreal. I don't think I've ever even been in this room before.

I wonder how much of what I remember _was_ a dream. Did I really talk to him last night? The conversation is so sharp in my memory, almost gritty in its clarity. But it too had felt surreal and dream-like, even while it was taking place.

He's really returned for me? I can't allow myself to believe it; I can't stop myself either.

For one, excruciating moment I am sure that all of this is a dream – that it is still some sort of fiction that I've concocted, or that I'm wrapped in some sort of delusion inside my own head while my body lies and rots in my former plane of existence . Did I really see Edward in the forest? Did I really witness his arm getting ripped from his body? Did I really see hear him scream for me as I was carried away, completely feral in his revolt, hissing and growling at his brothers?

It all begins to cement for me then. I hear movement from somewhere on the floor below my room, and that seems to steady me in this reality even further. I slowly come to realize that none of this is a dream. All of it, the relief and the dread but most importantly, his _presence _is real, and a cool, peaceful feeling washes through me. It doesn't last long.

Mike Newton is dead. I've known it for a while now; ever since my father had walked in to my room asking questions I had known, on some level, that Edward was responsible. He'd confirmed my suspicions last night, right before his breath had started heaving like he suddenly needed oxygen again but couldn't get it. His exact words on the phone sound in my head.

"_I've killed three people."_

I had answered him with, "I know", but I really don't know. I am now sure about Mike, and I can guess to a degree what happened to him, but I have no idea what else Edward has done on his path to me.

Suddenly, I am struck by the revelation that I have no idea what my parents are going through at the moment. I can't even hazard a guess as to what time it is (though I do note that the sun is shining dimly through my window) but I'm sure that I've been gone long enough to alert Charlie. Coupled with the disappearance of my date the night before, I'm sure he is nearly insane with worry and speculation.

I scoot myself out of the bed and walk across the room. I am desperate to know, exactly, where I am, and what time (what day?) it is. I'm sure one of the Cullen's will know what has become of my family – my old life.

I stumble downstairs to see Alice and Carlisle enveloped in a completely silent conversation; Esme sits perched on the loveseat close by, seeming to listen to the debate that my human ears can't even detect. Jasper sits on the couch with Rosalie; they stare at the muted television. He looks browbeaten and pained.

I'm ashamed to admit the first words out of my mouth.

"Where's Edward?"

Alice turns to me, and there is no trace of the usual exuberance and light in her face. She seems sad and frazzled, her clothes are somewhat skewed and wrinkled and the observation makes me feel nervous. When she answers me, my stomach drops.

"I can't see him, I lost him a few hours after you fell asleep and except for a small window after that I haven't seen him since. We've all called him but he's irritated with us, and he warned us not to call again unless it was 'relevant to Bella's condition'". She uses her fingers to make quotations in the air then sighs and finishes forlornly, "He says that you can call whenever you want."

I feel guilty for the way that Edward is treating his family. I don't necessarily agree with their opinions on everything, but they've been gracious and warm to me. It's obvious that they are genuinely afraid for my life, and the fear is coloring all their decisions.

Knowing that Edward is still reachable by phone abates _my_ fears, even though I am still confused by his flickering presence in Alice's visions recently. It is obvious, from her demeanor, that Alice shares my concerns.

I ask the next most important question on my list.

"Have you talked to Charlie?"

Alice looks to Carlisle, and I follow her gaze.

"I have," he says, "he's very worried. He got our Alaska number from the hospital and called me hoping that you had contacted us. Neither you nor Mike have been missing very long in legal terms, but we can expect the search effort to intensify very soon. I think you should call him – the sooner the better."

"Do you think that I can go back to him…after I've changed?" My question makes their eyes fall on me again in that perplexed way, as if I am a paradoxical riddle. I feel a tinge of annoyance.

"It wouldn't be safe to allow a newborn contact with humans, especially for the first few years. I'm not sure that it would be a good idea for him to see you again anyway; the physical changes are substantial." Carlisle's voice is soft.

The weight of what he's implying suddenly settles on me. I'll never see my parents again. The sadness permeates all the way through to my bones and again, I feel exhausted.

Jasper's body shakes suddenly, and before I even register the movement he is gone. I hear the front door click closed in the foyer.

I look back to Carlisle, trying to stay with the family in this present conversation but wanting desperately to wallow in my grief for a while. But I take advantage of the numbness that I seem to be encased in, as I somehow know that it's temporary and as fragile as spun sugar.

"Wouldn't it be better then, if we let them think I died? I don't want Charlie to search for me forever. He deserves closure."

They all continue to stare at me; Esme even brings her flawless ivory hand to her mouth. If not for my precious cocoon of nonchalance, I would have definitely been annoyed.

This time, it's Alice who speaks.

"Are you sure that's what you want, Bella? Once it's been done, it can't be undone. We're not even sure if Edward can handle being around you right now."

Suddenly, Edward's agitation with his family seems a little more understandable, and I too, feel uncharacteristic irritation. Anger finally begins to seep through my blanket of calm, and I stare at Alice with hostility. She notices and continues with pity, "I'm just saying, you shouldn't burn that bridge until you are absolutely sure that you're giving your old life up."

"I thought you only saw my death anyway, huh? " My voice is high pitched and I walk toward Alice, gesturing with my hands. "I thought that the only future I had was death at his hands! Is that not the case?"

"The future can change," Alice says quietly.

Her response makes me blind with rage. "That future will not change! I will NOT go back! Do you hear me, Alice?" I turn to the others in the room, including them in my tirade. "Do you ALL understand? I won't go back! So he'll either kill me, or he'll change me. Those are the only two paths." I look back to Alice and nearly spit at her, "and I don't give a _damn_ what your visions say."

Before the last of my sentence passes through my lips, I can feel my throat swell and tears overflow my scratchy eyes. I run out of the room and back up the stairs, still so angry that my hands are clenched in tight fists. I leave four, stunned vampires in my wake.

_**/MM\**_

Two hours later, I hear a knock at my door. I've calmed down considerably and I silently hope that it's Alice so I can apologize for my rude behavior earlier.

Instead I'm greeted by Emmett, and the carefree grin on his face instantly brightens my mood. He's got a white paper bag in his hand and he's swinging it against his shins, smiling like a mischievous child.

"Guess where I've been?" He questions, raising his eyebrows and waiting for permission to continue what will surely be some sort of tease.

I sigh and take the bait, "Where?"

"Oh, not very far. Just around the bend to see my wayward, Charles Manson of a brother who's living in a tree like some emo, pale Tarzan." He chuckles at himself then shakes the bag and continues, "In fact, I come bearing gifts. I didn't screen it or anything so don't blame me if it's got a dead animal in it or something."

I know he's joking, but I bristle. "Fuck off Emmett, and cut him a little slack. He's fine."

Emmett's eyebrows shoot up and he seems agitated for a second before sliding back into his easygoing role effortlessly.

"I'm just joshing Bella. You and Edward really are parts of a larger, over-dramatic whole." I roll my eyes and take the bag from his huge hands.

"I'll let you enjoy that in private," he says jovially. "Watch your fingers!" He adds over his shoulder as he shuts my bedroom door behind me and I plunge my hand down into the bag.

The first thing I remove is a cell phone and my face lights up at the implications of it. I touch the screen of the sleek phone and clumsily navigate my way to the address book, and I see only one entry in my contact list. It makes me giddy.

I want to call immediately, but I decide to thoroughly investigate the bag first.

When I'm through, I've got chocolates, movies, and rose petals spread out around me. In my right hand I'm still clutching a silvery necklace, a huge teardrop diamond dangling from the chain. I stare in awe at the opulence that's emerged from the unassuming paper bag.

Finally, I open the phone and hit speed dial one. The phone barely makes it through the first ring before a velvet voice greets me on the other end. I can literally hear the smile on his lips when he whispers my name to me, "Bella."

"Thank you, for the gifts" I say first. "I especially like the phone."

"Hmm" he hums into his handset, making my stomach flutter, "me too. Did you enjoy the present in the small blue box?"

The necklace had come in a small blue box. I smile to myself, then answer, "yes, it was my second favorite gift."

This makes him chuckle, which causes my chest to expand in happiness.

"I'm very glad you like it," he continues.

"So," I say, enjoying our banter but needing to broach a subject that has been brewing in my head. "Emmett says you're living in a tree now?"

He chuckles again, and I'm relieved that he's not angry with me for asking.

"Emmett likes to exaggerate. I do spend a good deal of time in the forest, but I wouldn't say I _live _there. I guess vampires have a little different conception what constitutes a domicile anyway, seeing as how we don't sleep." He breathes deeply then continues, "Besides, I found a house a few miles away that I use for showering and such, so I guess that would be – technically – where I live."

"If you have a house, why do you stay in the forest?" I am basking in every sound that he makes, caring less about the content of his words and more about the soft lilt of his voice.

He pauses for a moment, and again I feel panicked that I've said something to displease him. He speaks after a few tense seconds.

"I can't smell you from the house."

His statement hangs in the air for a few moments, making me feel awkward and ecstatic at the same time.

"When can I see you again?" I ask quietly, unable to stop the question from spilling from my lips.

"Soon, Bella. I promise I'll come for you soon. But I can't tonight love. Alice has called me nearly twenty times today in hysterics, so we probably shouldn't push our luck for now."

His answer, while perfect, still makes me sad. "Do you believe her visions, then?"

"Not absolutely. I know that they can change." He pauses for a second then says, "I could _never_ hurt you, Bella."

I smile, hoping that he interprets my silence as contentment, not skepticism.

"So, did Carlisle tell you about my request?" Edward's voice is light again.

"No, but whatever it is the answer is yes."

He chuckles again and I giggle in response. After his laughter dies down he continues, "If it's not too much trouble I was hoping you could send me a care package of my own. Maybe some things with your scent?"

"Can't you smell me right now?" I question jokingly.

He breathes in deeply and exhales with a loud sigh. "Mmmm…yes, I can. It's like an exquisite perfume that floats to me on the breeze. But something you've touched directly, or maybe worn, would smell much stronger. I want to push myself as much as I can to build my resistance. I need to touch you again."

His admission makes my heart flutter. I don't think I'm capable of coherent words so I just stutter out, "OK".

"Good," he purrs in my ear, causing chills to run down my ear to my shoulder and torso, settling in my belly. "Emmett has agreed to deliver your package, once you've put it together."

"What would you like?" I prompt him, already mentally picking items.

"Just pieces of you," he whispers back.

We exchange final goodbyes and declarations of love then disconnect; I immediately begin to shove some of my things into a duffle bag, and then take off across the hall to Edward's room.

_**/MM\**_

The next day, I receive another gift from Edward, this one delivered by a less enthusiastic Emmett.

"I'm no carrier pigeon, my dear, and I told you're little prince as much. I'm sure you'll meet his new grunt worker when you get your next delivery."

I want to believe he's joking, but something tells me there's some truth in his taunt.

This gift is much like the last, full of expensive snacks and pastries and even containing a chilled bottle of red wine. Ever thorough, I find a corkscrew in the bottom of the bag. Better than any of the smaller baubles which fill the bag is the envelope bearing my name peaking from the top. The letter inside is written on heavy rice paper in his familiar calligraphy, and is nearly three pages long.

'_**My dearest Bella,**_

_**I don't know how to express how grateful I am that someone as good and kind as you can be with me, that you have consented to help me. Your gifts were so thoughtful and I plan to use them - and everything else in my power - to get back to you.**_

_**I never thought I'd be this happy again, I know I don't deserve it but I can't help but bask in it. I don't think that God would listen to my prayers with a very kind ear; it's pretty obvious that I don't deserve it. So I can't thank him for this new outlook I have, this new future. I can only thank you. Thank you so much Bella.**_

_**Thank you for loving me and trying to forgive me. Thank you for speaking to me, still wanting me.**_

_**I need you to understand that everything I said the day that I left was a lie. We've talked about it in passing on the phone but I need you to know, without any doubt, that all of it was a sick, black lie. It was the hardest thing I've ever done to lie to you like that, and I realize now that it was so hard for me because deep down, I knew it was wrong. I was so wrong, Bella, about everything.**_

_**I want a future with you Bella – in whatever way you'll have me. I know now that you belong with me, I can't escape that, and I'll never try to again. I'm not strong enough to stay away from you.**_

_**I made the biggest mistake of my life when I tried to run from our love. It's the kind of mistake that can't be corrected overnight, or maybe ever. It might be the kind of mistake that you have to learn to live around, instead of getting through. I hope you can forgive me after all this is over.**_

_**I'm ashamed of some of the things I've done. That's very hard for me to admit, but writing it down here for only you to read, I can say that I'm embarrassed and a little lost right now. And I need to let you know that it isn't over yet. I apologize now for the means I may have to go to.**_

_**I'll tell you everything; right this very second because I'm never going to hide anything from you again. This letter is getting harder for me to write and I imagine that it will be difficult for you to read as well, but you deserve to know everything. I want you to know everything about me.**_

_**If you'd rather talk about this on the phone, stop reading and call me now. I love you.'**_

The first page ends there, and the two pages behind this one seem to increase in weight the longer I hold them and stare down at the last three words on the page.

I don't want to read the rest. I don't want to hear all this blackness at all right now but he needs to share this burden and I have to help him with that. I know deep down that I need to hear it as well – I am the cause of it, whether it was my intent or not.

Hearing the details on the phone is a better alternate but even that seems too distant for me. I ache to just _see_ him, maybe run my hand down his strong, beautiful jaw. The last time I'd seen him, he was nearly insane with anger and pain. I need to see his crooked smile again, just to know for sure that all this is real.

Instead of calling him like requested, I dump out the contents of Edward's last gift bag and set it upright on the bed in front of me. I throw in a few articles of clothing, and a book that I've just finished reading. I scribble a quick note, and sign it with my love and a request for him to call me when he gets it.

I run into Edward's room and randomly pluck some more CD's from Edward's shelves, and I also grab him a fresh set of clothes and a toothbrush. I take the bag back to my bedroom and take a deep breath, steeling my resolve. Quickly, I slide my pajama bottoms down my legs and pull one of my feet out. I shimmy my panties off, nearly tripping over them as I fight them off my legs, already thinking of plausible excuses to feed to the vampires downstairs should I fall flat on my face. I finally hold the slightly damp panties in my hand, and I shove them in the bag then finish off my package by pushing the pillow that I'd using for the past few nights into the top.

I walk out of the room with purpose, hoping that Emmett will make one more special delivery. When he sees me enter the room with the overstuffed bag he wrinkles his nose then sniggers, standing up and taking the handles of the bag from me, holding out away from his body.

"Eddie boy is literally going to go ape-shit when he gets a whiff of this."

My face blooms red as Emmett takes off down the stairs.

_**A/N: So did I earn a review? Possibly a bad one? Either way, I want it.**_

_**Like I said, I've got Edward's chapter basically written and it picks up about where this leaves off. Major developments next chapter which may shock you – there's a method to my madness.**_

_**Still looking for a Beta? Any takers?**_


	9. Experiments

_**A/N: We join Edward after his Jacob related epiphany. This chapter is meant to both answer – and pose – some very important questions. Oh, and this is rated M for a reason…**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**Chapter 9 - Experiments**_

The first thing that I'd had to take care of on my quest to change Bella was the damn dog. We should have just killed them all when we had them gathered together, if I had known what I was in for I would have at least killed the extremely irritating, extremely persistent Jacob Black.

It wasn't that I was afraid for my family. One lone wolf would be nothing for the six of them to take on, and after my time spent studying Black I had decided that he was indeed alone, and that no one, lest of all his pack members, expected him to return to La Push alive.

Taking on seven, possibly eight, vampires on your own is suicide – even for a werewolf.

But I couldn't stand the idea of him going near her – I hated now he felt that he had some sort of claim on her, and he needed to understand that this war he was fighting was a losing one.

So I decided that the first order of business was to build a kennel, of sorts. Just somewhere to keep the dog until I had an opportunity to explore the intrinicities of blocking out my dear sister. Her ignorance is crucial if I ever hope to have a chance at an independent, isolated life with Bella.

I stole a truck and drove over five hours, ending up in another small, freezing town. I visited a multitude of places, from hardware stores to the one cell phone provider in the area then even to the jewelers and a small cafe. I stayed in the sleepy town for less than two hours, but I accomplished quite a bit. I headed back for the woods, praying that the dog hadn't happened upon my family's scent while I had taken care of the necessities in town.

Luckily, I found him on the opposite side of the cliff where I had evaded him; he had obviously found a way across and was now in the processing of running my trail.

I saved him the trouble. I descended upon him at my full speed, and it gave him little time to prepare for the impact. His thoughts were full of revenge, both for the brothers in his pack and for Bella, his very first love.

I wanted to kill him but I reined myself in after much effort. I didn't know if his blocking abilities would work if he wasn't breathing, and that uncertainty was the only thing that saved his life.

I _did _make certain that he would stay unconscious for a while. Though full of rage, the pup was of little threat to me physically, given my years of experience and my ability to read his every move – his every feint. I carried the dog back to the abandoned cabin I'd located nearby and dropped his limp wolf form on the frozen ground beside my work space, attaching a thick steel logging chain to his neck in case he did wake unexpectedly. I linked the other end of the chain to the bull-bar on the front of the stolen cattle truck, leaving barely any links between the truck and the mutt's makeshift collar.

Finally, I reached into my bag of hardware store goodies and pulled out a roll of industrial strength duct tape, wrapping it several times around the sleeping dog's muzzle.

With the dog thoroughly cowed, I began work on his kennel. I finished quickly and moved him from the front of the truck to the large steel eyehook that I had anchored to the floor system in the house. I was almost late to meet Emmett, because I had to scrub myself in the shower forever to rid myself of the horrible smell of werewolf blood.

_**/MM\**_

As soon as I hang up with Bella, I begin to regret kidnapping the mongrel.

After all, Bella had known the dog before he became an actual dog. She still thinks of him as a younger brother type of friend, even though his thoughts toward her are drastically stronger and less platonic.

I hate the dog.

But he's serving a purpose; one that I hope will soon be complete, eliminating any need for his presence. I've been looking forward to that time, even though I can't say that I'm not also looking forward to some of the experiments I have planned.

Even though it's slightly disappointing, I decide to make a definite effort _not _to kill the dog once I finish with him. I think, for Bella's sake, that I'll try to scare some sense into him one more time. Maybe, when I finally have to answer for all of this, it will be a lonely point in my favor.

She's sending me a 'care package', and I'm so excited that I barely know what to do with myself. I'm tempted to go back to the house and finish this business with Black while my resolve is so firm but I expect Emmett shortly and I don't want to miss his appearance.

Emmett is the only member of my family that I've talked to in the past few days. Rosalie is furious at me for sending our family into chaos and virtually guaranteeing us another tumultuous few years while Bella adjusts. Carlisle has avoided me since our run-in; Jasper is also harboring resentment over my violence and threats. Alice calls nearly constantly, but I rarely answer. All she does is plead and cry.

I can't bring myself to face Esme. It's like she sees down into the deepest, darkest parts of me, and I can't stand for her to see what's down there. She forces me to feel the guilt that I push down so hard.

But Emmett seems to understand, at least superficially, what I'm going through. I think it's no coincidence that he's the only other one of my family members to have come in contact with their singer. His thoughts were indulgent and almost excited when I asked him to courier a package to Bella.

As if on cue, I tune in to Emmett's jovial thoughts heading back to me. I hear the rasp and swish of fabric consistent with something vinyl rubbing against his jacket. Judging from the smell permeating the forest as he approaches, I almost dare to hope that he's bringing Bella herself to me on his back.

I jump down from my perch and land in front of him. He wastes no time handing me the duffle bag and plopping down onto a fallen log.

I rip the bag slightly in my haste, but I don't destroy it. Emmett still laughs. The first thing I remove is one of my own black tee-shirts. I put it to my face and breathe in, moaning like an animal in heat. Emmett nearly doubles over as he continues to watch me rub my face against the fabric.

Her smell is so bountiful on the cotton; I can pick out the distinct tartness of her sweat, I can smell traces of her shampoo and shower gel. Her deodorant. And then, flowing underneath all those things like a complicated, entrancing melody – is the scent of her blood. Venom pours into my mouth, I swallow convulsively.

It's obvious by the strength of the smell on the shirt that she had worn it for quite a few hours, probably slept in it. The thought of her wearing my clothes while she interacted with others makes me moan again. Even in my absence, she is unintentionally marking_ herself_ as mine.

Emmett grumbles uncomfortably and walks off into the trees. It's through his mind that I realize that I'm obviously and painfully hard.

I pull out the next item in the bag: a hairbrush. To anyone else it may seem odd, but as I study the fragrant wooden brush in front of me I let out a short, triumphant laugh. I hold the brush up toward the sky, letting the sun glint off the hairs that tangle around the bristles. I grin like a lunatic.

I next pull out one of her favorite sweaters. Underneath that lies a dusty CD player that I remember sitting on one of my many music shelves at the Forks homestead. I pull out some tangled headphones, seeing that Bella has also thrown in several CD cases, with no perceivable guidelines on what she chose besides sticking to a predominantly classical genre. I don't care what music is on the CD's, I absently notice that one of the inclusions was a gift from Rosalie and happened to be one of my least favorites, but the memory makes me smile.

On the front of the CD player is a sticky note that reads _**'A little something to help you unwind'**_. Inside the player is Debussy.

She was made for me.

_**/MM\**_

When I get back to the house, still stoned on the scent of the shirt I'd changed into, I wish that I could just relax for a while, bask in the gifts my girl had given to me. Her scent on my treasures is blissful, and it positively swirls around me. Venom runs down my throat and I swallow over and over, trying to control it but failing miserably.

I sigh, and then force myself to begin my research. First I take off the black tee-shirt and stow it reverently in the stolen truck, fearful that it will absorb some of the smells in the kennel otherwise.

I walk in to the hollowed out house and see that the dog is awake. He's lying on his side just like I left him and breathing heavily through his nose. For the first time since I've had the displeasure of hearing Black's thoughts he is exactly as scared as he should be. I can't help but smirk.

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear enough when we decimated your pack back in Washington." I circle around to the side of the dog, making sure that he can see me standing over him. He hears my words but he is nearly numb with panic, and I want him more aware when I make him understand this. I wait for several minutes while he snorts and his mind screams, then he finally looks up at me.

"Bella is mine. Mine. My family and I understand that the treaty with your pack is over, and we don't ever plan to return to this side of the world. We just need a little time to…regroup, and then you'll never hear anything of us ever again. You won't be able to find us even if you wanted to."

He realizes that I'm speaking to him as if I plan to let him live, and immediately his mind turns to escape.

I sigh loudly. "Fuck Black, haven't you figured out by now that I know what's going on in that flea-bitten head of yours? It's over. She's mine. And _if_ I let you live, it will only be because she would rather have it that way. _If_ I let you live, it will be contingent of you tucking that ratty tail under your ass and running all the way back home. Because I swear to God if I ever see you again after this I will rip to pieces."

He hadn't really believed that I could read minds until that very moment, even though he'd heard rumors from the others. As he contemplated this I remember to ask him about the pack.

"Where is the pack? Why aren't you communicating with them?"

He looks up at me with his one visible eye. The tape strains against his jaws. His thoughts show me what I need to see. He defected because he couldn't let go. Even after they asked him to lead them, he turned away and ran to find Bella.

I begrudgingly nod at that, completely understanding how earth-shattering my Beloved could be.

"Now," I start again, "I've got a little experiment that I need to perform, and it will really be the deciding factor on how long you get to relax in this luxurious kennel I've provided you with." I gesture around the room, smiling foolishly.

"This is going to hurt, I imagine; but given that you're a werewolf, I think you'll survive."

I pull my fingernail along the sides of the tape where his lips meet, and almost immediately he is waving his face ferociously at me, snapping and gnashing his teeth. I use my knee to pin his upper neck to the ground, then grab his lower jaw with both hands and pry it open while he whines and thrashes his legs.

I place my hand into the very mouth of the beast; I pull out one of his horrid smelling teeth.

He howls so loud that I hiss from the sound that reverberates in my head and in my ears. In another second I reach into my back pocket and pull the tape back out, re-wrapping his muzzle tightly. I leap off of him carefully, mindful of his chained up claws.

I leave him lying on the floor almost exactly as I found him. I take off into the woods then call Alice. She answers immediately, screaming at me to tell her what's happened.

Alice is not faring well at being without her power. However, I can't say that I'm not smug that I am still invisible from her visions. While it seems clear to me from her demeanor on the phone that I am still missing, I decide that I need to see her in person to be sure. I ask her to meet me about a mile from the homestead, comfortingly close to the heartbeat and aroma of my one, true driving force in life.

Alice agrees, starving for information now that her seemingly unending source has run dry. I snap my phone closed and stick the wolves tooth in my pocket and then run to meet my sister. On the way back I plan to put together another gift for my Beloved.

_**/MM\**_

The meeting with my sister was tiresome, to say the least. I knew from the beginning it would be difficult, and my suspicions were immediately confirmed when I walked to up to her in a clearing and she yelled. "Jesus Christ, Edward! Why the fuck do you smell like a werewolf? What the hell has gotten in to you?" Her voice was so screechy I literally cringed, then launched into the story I had prepared about how I'd found Jacob in the area and had spent a few enjoyable minutes running him off again.

"Maybe we should get rid of him. What if he tells someone?" I can't say that I'm not surprised by my sister's implication. In all reality, I'm both surprised and very fond of the idea. However, I shake my head.

"I don't want to if avoidable. Bella likes him." I don't mention to my sister that while I don't plan to kill Black, I do have him chained up in an abandoned house right now and I'm currently carrying one of his teeth around in my pocket.

I'm absolutely ecstatic on the inside that she's missing that truth entirely.

I ask if she can see Bella's future, and immediately she shows me one of the many visions that have been haunting her relentlessly - visions that she continues to see, even though I have disappeared altogether.

Bella is dead, pale and drained, her arm bent at an odd angle and her once deep eyes glassy and flat. The image of my Beloved literally pains me, and I force myself to swallow it without choking on the despair that accompanies it.

_A warning. _I repeat to myself.

"Do you have any paper?" I ask, and Alice stares at me dumbly for a few moments before she runs off through the trees back to the house then returns with some stationary and a pen. "Thanks," I say when she hands the supplies off to me.

I take my leave not much later, after Alice shows me one more picture of Bella, this one a memory as opposed to a prediction.

In the vision, she is smiling faintly while holding her phone to her ear.

"Thanks", I repeat again, not knowing what else to say that will maintain this fragile peace that seems to hang between us.

She nods to me, before quickly suggesting a shower in her mind as I leave.

_**/MM\**_

I hear Emmett coming almost immediately because I am lingering closer than agreed upon, barely able to maintain any sort of distance at all. I've waited nearly an hour for her call, which leads me to assume that the read the entire letter. I expected a call, to be honest, and now that so much time has passed I am literally consumed with panic and worry.

Her smell is even stronger on him than the last time he brought tokens from her, and I am confused, excited and wary all at the same time.

The closer he gets, the angrier I become. I can clearly smell her arousal now, sweetening the air around me making me feel primal and aggressive. For some reason, the knowledge that Emmett is in possession of something infused with that scent makes my absolutely livid. I definitely don't like the idea that the smell of her arousal seems to drift from Emmett, and is mingling with his own distinct nuances. A growl begins deep in my chest and reverberates out of me, warning Emmett of my ire.

Wisely, he simply drops the package and heads back the way he came. I don't even bother to listen to his parting shots.

I fall upon the bag and tear the white paper to shreds. Before I can stop myself I stick two of my fingers through fabric, and I curse as I pull the wounded pillow out of the decimated bag reverently and lay it to the side.

Under the pillow, I find a small scrap of cotton that triggers a controlled explosion in my chest, causing heat to filter through my entire body before I'm even fully aware of what I hold in my hand.

Comprehension coming to me slowly, I lift the slightly wet fabric to my face, and gently touch my nose to it as I breathe in deeply.

Some minutes, or perhaps days, later, I come back to myself. I'm standing in the midst of chaos, uprooted trees lying on both sides of me and small pieces of fabric, feather and paper swirling lazily at my feet, as if I've stepped into some bizarre snow globe. Half of a toothpaste bottle lies a few feet away in the grass, there's hardly anything left of the bag at all.

I still hold the powerful scrap of cloth in my right hand, and I put it to face again tentatively.

I have to repeat the process sixteen times before I'm in control of myself enough to call Bella.

When she answers, I can't help the raspy sound of my voice. Instead of sounding happy or collected or even turned on I sound desperate and wild. I _feel _desperate and wild.

"_Bella…"_ I nearly whine into her ear. "I got your gift. It's quite possibly the most powerful weapon to have ever been used against me."

"Did you like it?" She asks tentatively; her voice soft and shy.

"Don't be embarrassed, love. I loved it. More than I can explain. Can you do something for me, love?"

"Yes", she breathes into the phone almost instantly, proving that she will indeed, give me anything.

"Tell me what you were thinking about, right before you removed those panties."

The confines of the dirty jeans I'm wearing suddenly seem too restrictive, and I readjust myself absently while I listen, amused, to the sound of her breathing hitch.

After a few seconds, she whispers to me again. "I was reading your letter. I wanted to show you that I want you as well, that I never stopped. Besides, you said you wanted to touch me, and I wanted to help you along."

I laugh heartily, "Well, you certainly gave me plenty to work through."

"Is it hard for you, to have them?"

"No, Bella." My voice drops low, "It's so easy to get lost in it. That scent, it makes me want to let go."

"Let go, Edward," she breathed in my air, making me shudder and rub myself through my jeans. I try to hold on to the tenderness and love that had permeated the letter that I'd sent. I try to focus on the confessions I have to make before this conversation is over.

"God, I want to Bella. But I can't hurt you, so I have to move very, very slowly."

She's quite for a beat, and then says, "You still don't want to try?"

I can't help but let out a short laugh at her conclusion, it seems ridiculous given the current placement of my hand. "I think I'm much more open to experimentation now, love. For instance, what are you doing right now?"

"Umm…"she stalls for a moment, and I can literally see the blush that I'm sure is painting her cheeks. "I'm lying in the bedroom, just staring at the ceiling."

"Touch yourself." She gasps.

"Do it, love." I continue, using my most persuasive, velvet voice. "I want to hear how much you want me, how much you miss me."

I process the sound of her zipper and my cock threatens to rip through my denim pants. I unzip my own restrictions and sigh in relief immediately.

Bella still hasn't said anything, so I push her once more. "Have you ever touched yourself before, when you thought of me?"

"Yes," she says, still whispering. "But not since…you left."

Her subdued voice makes me ache inside, but I push away the guilt and focus on providing her with some sort of release.

"Please touch yourself now, Bella. God, I need you to feel good. I wish it could be me but hearing you would be so amazing. Please, just run your hands along your lips and let me listen."

Bella is still silent, but in the background I hear a wet, slick noise. I moan into the phone. "Oh God, Bella. Yes, that's perfect, that's so perfect."

I revel in the sound for another minute or so and then I begin to notice that she's picking up a slight bit of speed. Her breathing is coming in shorter bursts and once, I even hear the faint beginnings of a moan. The nearly-there sound makes my eyes roll up into my head.

"Go to the top of your slit and push your index finger onto that perfect little nub." I hear her gasp again in the phone. "That's it, love, do it again for me. Now again."

She's whining now, I can hear her hands working furiously while I coax her. I imagine her lying on her back with phone pressed into the hollow her throat, moving both her tiny hands inside of her sweet smelling panties.

I'm stroking myself now, holding my intoxicating scrap of cloth in the same fist as the phone, continually turning my head to douse myself in the smell. I'm getting close to release, and from the sounds of Bella's gasps and grunts she approaching her peak as well.

"God I want to touch you Bella," I begin again, determined to push her over the edge, "I want to push my tongue in between your thighs. If you smell half as good as you taste Bella, I'll never be able to pull myself away."

"Edward", she whines absently, the slick movements of her fingers controlling the momentum of my own pumping hand.

"I can't wait to claim you Bella. I'm going to worship you."

"Edward," she squeaks again, "Are you touching yourself?"

I hiss through my teeth at her words. "Ungh, yes. Oh yes, Bella. You make me so fucking crazy. I want you so bad Bella, I'm going to fuck you for days."

She finally stops moving, and her breath went still in her lungs as she teetered on the brink of release. I hear one more distinct slide of her hand then she's moaning my name, her breath rushing in and out raggedly.

The thought of her pleasure shoots me to my own precipice. A thick stream of venom erupts from me as I stroke myself jerkily twice more, then I roar like some sort of wounded demon. I feel the phone pressed to my ear shatter into a thousand tiny pieces in my grip, and instantly I feel the loss of her presence.

Feral hisses and growls push from between my teeth for several more seconds, and when I finish I notice that venom has leaked out of my mouth and is soaking the front of my sacred black tee shirt.

I take the soiled shirt off and use it to wipe my face, hands and groin. I shake the panties out to rid them of the tiny shards of my phone, and then I take off toward the town again, in need of clothing and other provisions before wrapping up loose ends at the kennel.

If I continue to play my cards right, by this time next week I'll have claimed Bella in almost every single way that matters.

I didn't think I could get more excited about our future together, but after our telephone experiment, she once again proves me wrong.

_**A/N: So what do you think? A lot to process I know.**_

_**And Edward and Bella haven't forgotten about the second two pages of the letter. They just…umm…got distracted.**_

_**Thanks to all my loyal reviewers, you guys kick major ass.**_

_**Hey lurkers out there, take a few seconds to review? Please?**_


	10. Secrets

_**Secrets**_

I'm grateful that I have limited my shopping to outside of Anchorage until now, that will make the obscene amount of purchasing that I'll do today somewhat less conspicuous. But I already know that my presence won't go unnoticed, and I expect that eventually the authorities will become suspicious of my relationship with Bella and that they will trace us here.

But this is where our trail will end – where Bella's luminous human light will flare brightly to its end, then explode like a firework, beautiful and blinding but too short. This is where the humans, vampires and werewolves will all lose sight of Bella and me.

The first store I visit is Verizon.

I call Bella as I walk to a few of my other smaller stops. Her phone only rings once before I hear the intoxicating sound of her voice. "Edward, I was worried about you."

"I'm sorry, love. What happened earlier was…intense to say the least. My phone was an inconvenient but overall, insignificant loss."

She laughs lightly into the phone, causing me to smile in return. I turn into another store to begin the process of assembling my Beloved's next care package. "I guess I can understand that."

"I certainly hope so." My face is split into a huge grin, thinking of how _normal _she makes me feel. How at peace we are together.

"I am very sorry for the way the phone call ended though; I know that there must be plenty of things you want to know. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," she whispers, "but I think I know the question already, and the answer is no, I didn't finish it."

I am slightly disappointed because now I have to face the very real fear that my confessions will scare or anger her. I still have no idea how I'm going to articulate to her everything I've done. I wish that she _had_ finished the letter - then we could begin to move on from all of this. It would make things so much easier if she's a willing accomplice in the coming weeks, as opposed to a captive.

I realize I've been silent for far too long, and even through the phone I can hear her heartbeat start to accelerate. Suddenly I am breathing heavily myself, and I can't help but think about the distance between us right now. I can't help but be anxious at the fact that I cannot smell her, that I don't know – for sure – where she is. The people around me begin to notice my unease, and they give me an even wider path on the sidewalk.

"It's OK Bella," I finally manage to say, assuring both her and myself, "I'll tell you everything, just like I promised. But can I ask you one more favor before we begin this?"

"Yes."

"We can talk for a moment while I shop if you wish, but can we save the hard stuff for the next phone call? The things I need to say…I can't say while there's this many people around. I'd like us to have little more privacy."

"OK, as long as you call soon. It's making me nervous, how secretive you're being."

I cringe at that. "I don't mean to be secretive, I don't want to be. I meant what I said in the letter, I want you to know everything. I may not want to admit it all, but I want you to understand. I hope you can understand. Just please, give me a little more time, Bella. Just a few hours."

"I'll be waiting." She says a little firmly. She's quiet for a moment while I listen, relieved, to the sound of her breath becoming steady. Much too soon, it hitches again as she asks me in a high-pitched voice, "Wait, could your family hear us on the phone earlier? When we, um...we're busy?"

I can't help but smile, because I can only imagine the beautiful red blush that is sure to be staining her face, and I am also sure that they did indeed hear us. At first, the revelation doesn't bother me. Then I begin to visualize my siblings hearing Bella moan and touch herself shyly. I realize that my family could not only hear us, but had most likely smelled her, and I _don't_ like that thought in the slightest.

For the first time since Emmett brought the gift bag in the forest, I feel possessive anger once again pulsing through my chest. I try to tamp it down, fully aware of Bella waiting on the other end of the phone for my answer.

"Probably," she sucks in a breath and I push forward, "but it's not something that they haven't heard a thousand times before. It's impossible not to hear one another and we hear human movements within roughly a mile." I add lightly, "You can't imagine what its like to stay in a hotel."

She giggles a little, and I'm proud of myself for being able to comfort her while still dealing with my own anger. It shows progress.

"If anyone in my family gives you any grief, you tell me about it," I try to keep my voice light but I can't help the authority that slips in to it.

"You should treat them better, Edward. They're just trying to help." The sweet tone of her voice makes it hard to be annoyed at her even though I strongly disagree, and I'm careful not to let any of my aggitude seep into my voice.

"I'm just finding it a little hard to be around them right now, and it's frustrating that they can be close to you and I can't. Hopefully, when that changes things will be easier for me."

"I'm sure it will," she states optimistically. Again my face breaks out into a smile, thinking about her faith in us, her devotion to me. I couldn't ask for a better mate. I need her so bad in this moment that it's painful.

"So did you enjoy the rest of your gift?"

I am grateful for the change of subject, but this isn't going to be an easy question to answer either.

"I didn't really get to enjoy the rest of your presents, love. When I smelled your…gift, I pretty much lost it for a few minutes. I told you, it was the most powerful thing to ever happen to me." By the time I finish my voice is low and rough, and I hold the phone close to my mouth and nearly whisper to keep the customers around me from hearing this odd, erotic conversation.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing there wasn't anything _too _important in there," she says casually, and I'm relieved and grateful that she still isn't upset with me, even after being told about my family's front row seat to our phone sex, or my animalistic fit in the woods. She always surprises me, she always understands me.

I pray that her patience can stretch just a little bit further.

As I walk into the next shop, I ask her to tell me about her other gifts, and she humors me while I pick through the selections in a women's clothing store. I've always liked her in blue.

**/MM\**

I finally hang up with Bella when her phone beeps, alerting us both to the fact that it needs to be plugged in to recharge. The beep reminds me that my Beloved probably needs the same courtesy, and I implore her to go eat something and then take a nap. I swear to call her in less than three hours.

That doesn't give me much time, but I think under the circumstances it's more than fair.

Immediately after hanging up with her I find a decent hotel in the city, my only requirements being that it bordered on a strip of trees (not hard to find in the stark state of Alaska) and a good wi-fi connection. I make quick use of the computer I'd bought then pack my other purchases away in the new luggage, only leaving a few bags from the grocery store and the smaller bags containing Bella's next 'care package' on the bed.

I pack that with more care than anything else.

I lock up the hotel room, leaving the 'do not disturb' sign hanging from the exterior doorknob. I head down the stairwell and into the trees, heading deeper into the forest that loomed to the north.

As I run I think about the homestead my Beloved is currently occupying. I wonder, for what seems like the millionth time, what she is thinking about at this very moment. I wonder if she feels safe and loved or only scared and lonely without me. I wonder if she's hiding any terror or doubts underneath that never-ending patience. I wonder if the distance between us is as palpable for her as it is for me.

I expected that the mutual release we achieved earlier would have provided some sort of reprieve from the aching I feel. I had hoped that claiming her in that way would allow me some sense of security in our relationship. Instead, I am even more high-strung, more desperate to touch her. After only one taste, I am utterly addicted, and a large proportion of my brain begins to plot how to obtain that forbidden fruit again.

I force myself to remember my love for her and its importance above all else. I know that I shouldn't think of her as a possession, but it's in my very nature and extremely difficult to fight.

Especially when I think about her current proximity to males of my kind who are _not_ me. Even though they all have mates of their own, it is becoming harder and harder to ignore that they have contact with her and I don't. That they can comfort her, and hear her laugh, they can fucking _smell_ her come on her hand. It's so hard not to be angry.

Trying to push those thoughts from my head as well, I set a quick pace, still anxious regarding my time limit. I scout expertly, finally deciding on a gentle hillside covered in sparse low trees and brush. I clear it sufficiently then hunt out the closest road access point.

Satisfied with my work, I head toward the kennel.

The dog smells me coming. His mind panics and a snarling growl begins to roll out of his chest. It is immediately apparent to me that his muzzle is no longer wrapped in duct tape. His shackles still tether him close to the floor.

"So did you decide to change?" I ask casually, walking through the front door and closing it softly behind me.

In his mind he shows me the answer, though he is aware of my scanning now so his memory is interwoven with curses at me and novice attempts at hiding his thoughts.

I ponder, for a moment, if I've made a mistake in confirming my abilities.

He had attempted to change, hopeful that his other form would be able to escape the chains that held his neck and paws to the floor. While the shape shift had freed him of the tape around his muzzle, he had found that the shackles holding him were too tight for even his human hands and feet to fit through. Feeling helpless and vulnerable in his nude human skin, he had changed back after giving up on getting out of his collar.

"I've brought you some supplies, so it would be in your best interest to change again." I keep my voice friendly but authoritative.

When he shows no sign of obedience I hold one finger up in an imploring and mocking gesture, then head back outside. When I walk back in I carry the grocery bags.

I pull out the bottled water and fruit one by one, feeling the weight of the dog's eyes on me, hearing the internal struggle of hunger and pride wage inside him. I sit all the items on a table pushed against the wall a few feet away, and I step back toward him and squat down, unintimidated but wary of his slobbering mouth.

"I also brought a water dish, but no kibbles and bits. So unless you want to try to eat the fruit with that nasty smelling snout of yours, I suggest you change." I straighten up and head back toward the table, dropping the metal water dish on the ground loudly. To seal the deal, I pull out a pair of basketball sweats that buttoned up the sides. I throw them across the dog's middle. "I'll give you two minutes," I say, retreating back out of the door to listen to his pathetic wolf logic. As expected, I eventually hear the gross, cracking sound of his transformation.

As he eats, I study his thoughts for anything useful buried underneath the hunger, anger and lame attempts at hiding. Mostly I gauge how difficult it will be to get him to leave and not return, and on the surface it seems like he would run if given any chance at all.

Eventually he finishes all the fruit, and holds the final water bottle to his chest with his dirty hands. He stares at me, the sustenance seeming to fuel his anger and defiance.

I walk back outside and return with the duct tape and a pair of pliers that I'd bought at the hardware store. When I walk back in his eyes widen.

"I have one final favor to ask of you, and then we can discuss your eminent trip home." My plan is to feed him terror and hope at the same time, and it seems to working so far.

I toss Jacob the pliers, and he reaches for them but misses because of the confines of his chains. He picks them up off the ground, not quick enough in his mental blocking to keep me from seeing him cutting at his chains with the pliers. I chuckle.

"Good luck with that. Anyway, that's not the particular use those pliers are meant for. I'm sure you remember our experiments earlier?"

The bile rising in his throat is answer enough.

"Well, I'm sure you'll be happy to know that my results were very positive. And that's very good news for you, because that means that your stay here is coming to a close. But before you can go, I'm going to need a few more controls for further research. Two more controls to be exact."

Jacob is having a hard time following, and for the first time since all of this started he uses his adolescent human voice to speak to me.

"I'll never give anything to you. You can kill me before I'll help you."

His attitude of defiance makes me bristle. I lean down close again and hiss, "I don't need to kill you to get what I want. I don't _need_ your help. Pull out two teeth."

His eyes widen at my demand, and he shouts his noncompliance. His body begins to morph as anger and panic rush through him.

"Fine," I hiss again, and grab him. He's barely re-grown his fur when I have two more bloody teeth in my hand, cutting unpleasantly into my skin while I rewrap the mutt's snout.

When I raise back up I see that I've done more damage to him that I would have liked. The impression of my knee in his side is still visible, and his ribs bend and crack as he wheezes.

He doesn't scream aloud, but his mind does, and all thoughts of revenge and subterfuge disappear. In a flash, I see the seedling of a plan that he's been trying so hard to hide from me.

Charlie. He was going to change in front of Charlie. He knew her father was still looking for her. He knew that Charlie was wary and suspicious of my family, and that it would take little in the way of evidence to convince him to pursue me.

My new cell phone rings, and I jerk it out of my pocket immediately, smearing werewolf blood on the front face. The screen displays Alice's phone number, so I don't answer.

Instead I stare down in confusion at the dog who's just signed his own death warrant. I feel weighted down by the knowledge that I can no longer use the dog's release in my favor on the phone in a few hours, because I can never let him return and tell this secret. It would ruin absolutely everything. It may very well mean Bella's very existence, regardless of whether she is vampire or human when the chips finally fall.

I don't say anything else to the dog. I simply leave him sprawled out on the floor, walking to the other side of the house into the bathroom, the only room that I'd left intact after my renovations. I take a quick but thorough shower and then walk back out to the main room, anxious to get away from the horrid smell.

On the way out I walk past the table against the wall, still littered with grocery bags and the duct tape. I kick the water bowl under it as I go; on the corner of the table is a small mason jar.

I drop all three teeth in the jar and then head back toward the strawberry smell of my destiny.

**/MM\**

Before I get there, I smell the expected welcoming party. Again I'm surprised that my sister is alone to meet me, but as I venture closer I hear that Jasper isn't far away, he's simply trying harder to keep his presence from me.

"Why can't you seem to answer god damned phone calls from us anymore, Edward? Hmm? Do you understand how hard this is for us?"

"Can you see Charlie?" This is the first order of business, and one of the only subjects today that Alice and I will agree upon.

"That's what I was calling about!" She nearly screeches. _I had a vision of him with newborn eyes, Edward! I haven't seen it since but we can't let that happen. I can't see what caused it!_

"I can see you again. Or I have, a few times in the past twenty or so minutes," she adds aloud.

"You can?" I ask, surprised for some reason that the magic of the tooth didn't seem to hover, it has already dissipated after only a few minutes.

Alice shows me a vision, it's horrific and it's so real I begin to whine immediately. I'm draining her, on the cold forest floor, and she's pushing on my shoulder with only one hand but I don't even notice and eventually she stops. Her arms fall limp on the fragrant bed of her hair, and I can hear myself moaning and growling into the open wound on her neck.

I pull myself away from the wreckage in front of me to take in the finer details of the vision. The landscape is familiar. _The airstrip._

Alice's vision comes to a stop, and she stares at me imploringly, begging me not to do whatever I was planning that would lead to this. My mind flies with contingency plans, I grasp for ways to change the future that just can't be the outcome of all this.

Alice loses herself in another vision, and I dig into it, hopeful that some other option had been triggered by my knowledge of the events at the airstrip.

I watch, crestfallen as Alice shows me my Beloved's death again, this time she is wearing a deep red sweater instead of the white that had stained with her blood so quickly the first time.

A different timeframe didn't seem to help.

_**You have to give this more time Edward. Let us throw Charlie off of our trail – hell, HELP us throw Charlie off our trail. Right now we need to concentrate on protecting ourselves and getting Bella out of all this alive.**_

I hate that she's demanding. I hate that she thinks she can tell me how to interact with Bella.

"Listen Alice, I know that you care about her. And I know that you want to keep her safe. But I swear that _I'll _keep her safe. I promise."

"Edward!" I interrupt her.

"I need you to do something for me. Give Bella and me a little privacy tonight. We've got…a lot to talk about and it would be easier on both of us to know we didn't have an audience."

"I don't know if that's a good idea." My fists tighten; I grit my teeth at my sister. I employ another tactic.

"Bella is mortified that you all heard what happened on the phone between us. You probably already know that but maybe I should remind you since you obviously haven't thought about how good it would be for her to have a little privacy and modesty. She's never complained once about living with us, even though we _all _know that she's embarrassed by her body."

Alice huffs and I smile to myself as I feel her resistance crumble. "Fine. As long as we agree that you aren't going to see her for a while. You shouldn't get her hopes up about that either." I bristle even more at her tone, my patience wearing dangerously thin.

Jasper feels my growing anger, and comes closer to us. I growl out the only warning I plan to give him.

Alice pushes forward, determined to say her piece to me now that she's finally seen a concrete vision of Bella and me.

"I don't recognize the background in the vision. Do you?"

"No." I answer coldly.

"Bullshit" she replies, acid in her voice. _**What are you hiding?**_

I just stare at her, giving her nothing.

An inner timer lets me know that I have merely ten minutes until my time limit will expire, and I'm mostly relieved that this impromptu meeting with my sister is over. Jasper still stands to my right and he mentally repeats a warning to me over and over, telling me in that infuriatingly calm drawl of his that while we have sparred before and often in the past few days, it will be nothing compared to the hell that he'll unleash if I touch his mate.

I finally speak to Alice, but I doubt it's exactly what she wanted me to say.

"I've never seen that location before, though judging by the vegetation I would say that it's close. I doubt I'll see it in the future, because I don't intend to let that particular vision of yours play out. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make."

"Well, I guess we'll all just wait to see what adventures you're next big idea lead us on." Alice's tone is slick with venom. She adds in her head, _**you're so fucking selfish.**_

"Drop this gift off for me." I say casually then take off toward the east, away from Jasper, and intent on climbing a tree in the area and placing my phone call.

My sister screams obscenities at me for so long that I block her out and try to ignore her screeching. She eventually leaves and Jasper follows, and I see that she has taken the bag with her.

The past three hours have offered more complications than answers, but I try to keep my head above the depression and panic that threaten to consume me.

I comfort myself with the idea that it's better for my overall plan that Alice can't see anything past the airstrip. I don't plan to intercept her again without the protection of my wolf's tooth, and the gruesome vision of Bella and I's fate is as good as any for our parting.

Thinking of Bella's weak attempts to push me off of her causes my heart to break, but I force myself to push that fear down.

_A warning, _I repeat to myself as pull out my phone, wiping the drying blood off of it with the tail my shirt. I push one and take a deep, calming breath. I exhale all the hostility and deception that I'd used on my family from my body – preparing myself to speak nothing but the truth to her.

_**A/N: And there you have it. Next we will check in with Bella, as she will be receiving a very important phone call very, very soon.**_

_**A special shout-out goes to Sarita, keyecullen, keyskeyssagalover, and sugari. And a big thank you to all of you for reading, even you lurkers out there….**_

_**Expect a new chapter to be out this weekend.**_

_**How do YOU think Bella will react to the bombs Edward is about to drop? Do you think that they should put more stock in Alice's visions? What do you think will happen to our caged wolf? **_

_**Reviews make me edit faster.**_


	11. Three

_**A/N: *Crickets* Anyone still out there?**_

_**So I guess I should start by apologizing for my epic updating fail as of late. To be fair, my epic fail was directly related to the epic fail of my old laptop. Couple that with a family death that put the purchase of a new laptop pretty low on my priority list for a while, and you have the epic fail that is the lateness of this latest update. But you know what they say, excuses are like assholes...**_

_**So without further ado (or at least with all further ado regulated to the end of the chapter) I present to those of you still interested...**_

**Chapter 11 - Three**

**BPOV - **

I don't even bother trying to sleep. I'm keyed up once I say goodbye to Edward and my imagination, which is running wild with his potential secrets, keeps my adrenaline pumping and my hinders the steadying of my heartbeat. I sit on Edward's couch for a few moments, my knee bouncing up and down restlessly. I try not to think of the truths that I'm soon to learn, but my mind refuses to cooperate.

I've been fretting for only about a half hour when I hear muffled but raised voices seeping up through the floor.

"I'm telling you, we should leave with her! If he drains her he'll end his life, that's a given! We have to protect him from that.." I've never heard Jasper raise his voice before, and his drawl is even more apparent now, the cadence of his voice slow but still loud and confident.

"You know what will happen if you take off with her", Rosalie answers with a sigh. Her voice is softer, and I tiptoe further down the stairs to listen. Her patience wears thin quickly, and she huffs before snapping, "Just come sit down for God's sake, we can hear you stomping down the stairs like a baby elephant."

My blush stains my cheeks but I hold my head high and march into the dining room. All of the present vampires sit around a dark wood table, polished to a gleaming mirrored shine. Two chairs remain open, and I situate myself in the one closest to Carlisle.

Silence follows my entrance so I break the tension in a quiet, unsure tone. "I don't want to leave without him."

Jasper snorts harshly and rolls his eyes, I'm offended by his near-snarl.

"Well I am truly sorry if poor miss Bella will have to do something she's not inclined to. Consequently, I don't want to see Edward light himself on fire after this all goes to hell in a hand-basket!"

"Jasper!" Esme hisses, and Jasper snaps his jaw shut, obviously wanting to continue but but buckling under the pressure of his mother's glare. He stares down at the floor with intensity, and the tension in the air around us seems to dissipate slightly, now a thin fog as opposed to the near tangible cloud that engulfed the room moments before. Jasper continues with his usual understated and quiet voice, speaking directly to Carlisle who sits at the head of the table with his hands resting motionless in front of him.

"She's a sitting duck here. Eventually he'll find a way in. One of us will lose focus for a split second and he'll snatch her. The only way is to move her. Alice and I can leave with her, and the rest of you would only have to restrain him long enough for us to make a clean getaway. We wont tell any of you where we're going. He wont be able to find us, at least for a while."

Carlisle shakes his head and he finally speaks softly. "Son, we can't do that to him. Even if you got away, losing her like that would literally drive him insane. He's already seriously fractured, but I think it's a very real possibility that if he were to lose her like that, especially after what happened in the forest, he wouldn't be able to cope."

"And what he's doing now is coping?" Jasper cries out, throwing his hands up.

"He would hate us", Esme says softly, "he'd see it as a betrayal. The ultimate betrayal."

"It would be a betrayal." I say with as much conviction as I can manage. I hate how they are talking as if I'm not at the table. As if he's not one of them.

Jasper stares back at me hotly, irritation flaring up in each of us as he grapples with his focus.

"We don't know what he's capable of. Are you so ready to give up your life for this? Are you ready to take responsibility for his?" His harsh questions make me cringe into my seat. Before, I was so sure that he couldn't hurt me, _but what if he did?_

Dread rolls around in my stomach like a heavy iron ball.

"Enough." Carlisle hisses, and he waits for a few moments, until Jasper meets his steady gaze. "The most important thing is helping Edward. Running away from him wont solve anything, and it will very likely cause him to lose faith in us and himself."

"Carlisle - "

"What you suggest would also make him desperate. We've already seen that his perceptions of right and wrong are skewed, but challenging him in such a way would make him dangerous. If he sees us as his enemies, he could hurt one of us – or God forbid, expose us. Is that a risk you're willing to take?"

No one answers. I stare at my haggard reflection in the wood grain, not daring to look up to study the expression on Jasper's face.

Emmett clears his throat. "So what now? We agree we need to help him, but how?"

"I think his acclimation plan is a good one. He desensitized himself to her scent in the beginning and I think that eventually, it will work again." Carlisle's answer makes a grin spread across my bowed face.

"He seems content with the way things are operating now. He's hunting regularly and he keeps in contact with us. He's willing to allow Bella to stay here, which is a testament to the trust that he still feels for us."

Alice speaks, and for the first time I take in her muted presence. Her usual cheery demeanor is gone, and her beautiful porcelain brow is scrunched up as if plagued by pressure behind her golden eyes. Do vampires get headaches?

"He's hiding something from us. The way that he seems to walk in and out of my visions at will, it can't be a coincidence. He's found a way around me, but I can't see enough to figure out what it is. It's so damn frustrating!" The pitch of her voice rises as she speaks, and the end is nearly a squeak.

"You think he'll attack?" Carlisle's voice is hesitant, and we all stare at Alice as she shrugs.

"I don't know. He doesn't want me to know."

The table falls silent again, I glance inconspicuously at the flawless statues that pose in the chairs around me. Everyone seems to snap out of their trance at the same time and seconds later Carlisle speaks.

"We vote on the next course of action. Jasper, you've made your opinion clear."

"Yes," he agrees, "We run with her."

"I vote that we stay." Carlisle answers calmly. He turns to Alice, who in turn whirls in her seat to face me.

"I'm sorry Bella, but I promised you that I'd try to find a way to change what I've seen. And leaving here, well...that could change everything. I can't see Edward often, but I'm trying to find a way to hold onto you." She sighs and takes my hand in hers. "I vote that we go."

"I wont go!" I nearly yell back, snatching my hand away from her. I turn to face the family. "I vote that you let me go to him. He wont hurt me." They all stare at me with pity, which angers me further. "Besides, if someone has to get hurt, it should be me." My voice cracks as I consider that he may _be_ capable of ending my life. I force myself to push the thought from my mind, instead telling myself resolutely that Edward would never hurt me.

"I vote that we stay." Esme's voice is soft and as calm as her mate's.

"Me too." Emmett's face is set in an unfamiliar but thoughtful scowl.

Rosalie also seems enamored with the designs in the wood grain of the table, and for a long moment she stares down at it, ignoring the weight of the stares of the family, who wait with immortal patience for her to cast the final vote.

"I vote that we let her go. It's her decision." I snap my head up to stare at her in disbelief, not expecting to hear anything of the sort from her.

Silence once again falls upon the table, and finally Carlisle clears his throat once more.

"So it's decided. For now, we stay here. We continue to survey the surrounding territory, and we keep tabs on Edward as much as possible. Bella will be guarded."

Jasper rises from his seat swiftly, pushing his chair back and causing a grating screech to echo through the room. He walks toward the door but stops and turns in the entryway, leaning against the doorjamb and running his hands through his yellow curls.

"I'll take first run. I need to get out of here for a spell."

"I'm not sure that's wise", Carlisle says, "you're pretty worked up, it wouldn't go well if you ran into each other out there."

"I'm not afraid of him!" Jasper snaps at Carlisle, nearly growling and running his hands almost violently through his hair. "He's lucky I didn't fuck him up the last time!. He wont grab me like that again!"

Anger fills me once again and before I can stop myself I yell at him, "Why do you have to go out there and stir everything up again! Just leave him alone!"

Jasper turns on me, advancing quickly. Emmett blocks him from getting too close but I can still feel his intensity when he hisses at me. "I have to go watch Edward so we can know that he wont fucking _eat_ someone else!"

I stare at him, stunned.

"Do you even know what's happened – what he's done?" I continue to stare, wanting to dispute him but struck silent by the answer. "You don't know? Do you?" Jasper turns to Carlisle and shouts, "No one fucking _told _her?"

"Edward will tell me!" I shout back childishly, my heartbeat pounding in my own ears from the anger that courses through me. My fists clench tighter as once again Jasper snorts sarcastically.

Emmett still stands with his hands upon Jasper's chest to keep him from coming any closer to my seat, and he finally pushes his brother slightly, encouraging him to leave the room with his mate, who has also risen and is beckoning him toward the door. Jasper makes eye contact with his much larger brother, and a thin growl rolls out of his chest as he allows himself to be pulled away. Before he disappears from my line of sight he turns toward me once more, anger still plain on his face.

"Once you've heard what your _soulmate _has done, then we can talk. But until then, we should probably just stay away from each other because I can't stand your naivety." He turns then doubles back once again, sneering at me, "his eyes are red now, blood red. And your friend Mike is buried all over the side of Mount Rainer."

Emmett pushes Jasper the rest of the way out of the room, and seconds after I hear the front door slam shut I take off out of the dining room, sprinting up the stairs and curling up miserably on Edward's black couch.

I cry myself into a fitful, shallow sleep.

**/MM\**

I awake to the feel of cold hands on my face, and for a moment I nearly believe it's him. A euphoric sob begins to move up my throat but then I hear the lilting notes of Alice's voice and the joy rushes out of me as fast as it had come.

"Be-lllla," Alice trills quietly, still stroking my cheek. I finally open my eyes to find her staring at me, her lips turned up into a small, sad smile. "I came to apologize for earlier. And to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?"

"Just for a few days. Jasper needs some time. But don't worry, we wont be far away. And you'll be protected."

I sigh. "Your visions are still the same?"

"I can see Edward now", she says softly. Everything in her tone says that this is not good news. "But yes, the future still looks the same. But I wont give up, Bella." I smile at her.

"I'm sorry for the way Jasper spoke to you. He'll be sorry as well, I've seen it."

"But he's not sorry yet?"

Alice chuckles. "No, not yet. He's still very angry. And he's suspicious."

She clasps my hand in hers, and I stare down at our entwined fingers. "You're also suspicious?"

"I know he's hiding something." She states in a breathy, but sure whisper. After another moment she shakes her head and lets go of my hand, patting it gently.

"Edward will call in forty-five minutes. He's going to ask for some privacy for the two of you, and we'll compromise and only leave Carlisle to guard you while you two talk. It's another good reason for Jasper and I to make ourselves scarce for a while."

Anxiety grips me as I once again begin to dwell on the rapidly approaching phone call. Almost as if seeing my frazzled nerves with her perfect vision, Alice hugs me sympathetically then flits to the open window, waving a tiny hand at me before disappearing from my sight.

I head downstairs to painstakingly put together a sandwich, hopefully distracting myself from the torture of waiting for my world to come crashing down.

**/MM\**

In exactly forty-four minutes my cell phone begins to buzz, and I let it ring for nearly thirty seconds before I flick it open, pressing it to my ear. Before I can speak, a hypnotic velvet voice croons to me through the ear piece, sounding excited and relieved and ashamed all at once.

"Bella", my mate exhales, then inhales just as loudly and I know he's close, partaking of my scent. The thought makes me want to rub my thighs together, and I wonder how close Carlisle is to this third floor bedroom. As quickly as the distracted musing hits me I dismiss it, harshly reminding myself where this is going.

"Hello Edward. I'm glad you called."

"Were you sleeping, love?"

"No." I answer.

"What's wrong love? I can hear that your voice is tight. Have you been crying?"

"I'm fine Edward. I'm just...well I guess stressed would be an understatement right now."

"Did someone say something to upset you?" His tone is still all sensuality and crushed velvet but it is now laced with tension – anger runs just underneath the surface.

"I'm just nervous", I say quietly, hoping that my redirection will go unnoticed. Silence envelopes the other line, as both of us seem to understand that there will be no more stalling.

Eventually Edward whispers, "I don't even know where to begin."

Without thinking I quip, "Start where you left off. When you left me in the woods." As I say the words they spark a familiar ache in my chest. The silence lasts a few seconds longer.

"OK. I forced the family to promise to leave, when I left to pick you up for school on that last day they were all busy packing up our belongings. They were so angry with me." Edward's tone becomes softer as he talks. "After I left you, I just ran. I didn't see the family again after it happened. I couldn't stand it. I just ran for almost eight hundred miles until I eventually stole a car and headed for the border."

I don't say anything when he pauses again, and soon enough he continues in that soft, haunted voice.

"I decided that I'd track and kill Victoria. She led me to South America and I caught small traces of her in an alley in Rio. I tried to find her for weeks, but I never came across anything after that first discovery, and I couldn't think straight enough to predict where she would travel next."

"I couldn't stop thinking of you. I was so angry that I couldn't keep you safe, that I wasn't strong enough to stay with you. Sometimes, I would find myself trying to reason out ways to come check on you. I wanted to see you so badly. It hurt so much, but I kept repeating to myself that there was no other way."

I sniffle into the phone, the hollowness the radiates in his voice is heartbreaking and it's as familiar to me as a childhood friend.

"Carlisle and Alice found me in Rio, where I was wasting away in an attic. I gave up everything else except my devotion to you."

"They fed me, and that made me aware enough to listen in to one of Alice's visions."

"You weren't eating?" My tone is slightly annoyed and strained, and I am a little angry at him for his negligence, even though I can't tell you the last time I forced myself to eat a full meal.

"I fed sporadically while I was still actively tracking Victoria, but other than that I only fed accidentally a few times. I used the weakness as a means to stay away from you."

"Oh", I answer dumbly, and wait for him to continue.

"Can I ask you something, love?" He sounds so hesitant, like I will deny him. Like I _could _deny him.

"Yes", I whisper.

"Why did you kiss Mike?"

I'm dumbfounded by his question. Hot embarrassment rises in me at the memory, quickly followed by anger.

"I was trying to be _normal_ again, Edward! You left me with nothing. Well, nothing but a promise that it would be like it never happened, which was bullshit! I'll never be the same again! I'll never be able to forget you!" I huff in defeat and continue in a softer voice, "I wanted to be satisfied with what was possible for me. It never made sense that you wanted me. It barely made sense that Mike wanted me. I figured I at least owed it to my parents to try to be happy with the hand that I've been dealt. But I was right, Edward, happiness wasn't possible for me anymore."

My confession is met with silence. The anger inside me flickers then retreats, but I wait stubbornly for Edward to continue.

"I killed Mike." He eventually whispers, sounding miserable and ashamed.

"Because I kissed him?" I ask in a warbling voice, feeling both tortured and comforted by the idea.

"Yes", he confirms, and I begin to sob openly. Only the sound of his ragged breathing tells me that he hasn't disconnected, as silence envelopes us both once again.

"Am I going to have to drag every sentence out of you?" I ask, suddenly annoyed by his lilting speech.

He sighs heavily. "How much do you want to know? I'll tell you however much you care to hear. I don't want to, but I will."

"Spare me the gory details", I say sharply, but we both know its only bravado. I try to hold in my sobs, and finally Edward begins again.

"I saw the kiss in Alice's vision, and it was like something in me snapped. The thought of you loving someone else...I, I couldn't stand it. I told myself that I wanted you to have a normal human life. But I knew in that moment that I couldn't give you that. I can't give you freedom, Bella."

I continue to stifle my steady but quiet cries.

"I escaped Alice and Carlisle in Rio, and when I got outside...Bella, I hadn't fed in a very long time. I had no control at all. Before I even knew what happened, I was holding a woman in my hands. She was walking home." Edward swallows hard, his voice cracking, "she was bleeding from a scrape on one of her knees."

"I fed from her, and left her body on the doorstep of her shanty. I was gone before anyone noticed."

"I kept running, I couldn't stop thinking about the kiss, I prayed over and over that I would get there in time to stop it. But when I finally got back to Forks, I found him driving from your house. Seeing the kiss in his mind...I wrecked his car. I killed him."

Tears run in a steady stream down both cheeks but my sobbing has died down. My heartbeat finally starts to slow somewhat and I'm left with a terrible feeling of nausea and a haze over my eyes that seems to be seeping slowly back through my optic nerves and into my brain – which is still functioning on red alert.

"You fed from him." I state, needing him to continue. Needing him to tell me that the confession was over.

"I didn't." He is silent for another beat. "I wanted to feed from you. Only you."

"You said you killed three people?"

He sighs again, then continues in his soft yet masculine voice, "after Esme took you from me, Rosalie slipped up and I deduced where you were. I knew they'd be ready for me. Bella, being with you is the most important thing in the world to me. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to get to you on my own, against six full grown vampires. My mind-reading gives me distinct advantages in a fight, and there's no member of my family that I would truly fear in a one-on-one battle. But they won't fight fair. They haven't fought fair."

I think he expects me to argue with him, but I don't. Instead I wait, used to his hesitance by now.

"I needed to be stronger than them – even faster than normal. So I hunted."

I give him one, dry sniff, allowing silent tears to continue to spill. "Who?"

"An older man, a hotel clerk in a small town I'm slightly familiar with. I'd encountered him before, and I knew that no one would miss him. He was a thug to say the least, and that fact allowed me to rationalize my actions."

"You fed from him?"

"Yes."

"Three people?"

"Yes."

"Oh god."

"I'm sorry."

Suddenly, I am swept up into a agonizingly numb state of shock. I can't help but to picture each death scene in my mind, substituting in bizarre approximations where Edward's vague descriptions fall short.

I'm hit with a realistic vision of Edward sucking on a man's neck. I know that his eyes would be black and his stone fingers would be digging into the flesh of his kill. I imagine his neck muscles convulsing as he pulls in draw after draw.

I drop the phone onto the comforter and begin to dry heave over the side of the bed. Sobs rip through my lungs and I grab hold of my middle, trying to hold together my insides while ridding my body of the sickness that rushes and crashes against me.

I can hear Edward screaming in the phone lying open and face-down on the bed beside my shaking form. I gulp in large breaths of air, trying to stave off the panic and return my heart rate and brain function back to some semblance of normalcy. Suddenly I hear knocking on the bedroom door.

I pick up the phone and hold it out away from my ear, the sounds of Edward's pleading and crying impressively loud through the speaker. I whisper his name, and immediately he is silent except for his heaving, dry coughing breaths.

"I have to...I have to...go. I'll call soon but I can't do...do this right now." I can barely speak around the sobs pouring out of me, and Edward's stuttered pleas do little to help with my state. "I c-can't do this right now. I'm sorry...I'm going." I shut the phone and collapse into a hyperventilating heap on the expensive black leather.

I vaguely recall Carlisle standing over me, holding a clear mask to my parted and cracking lips.

_Three people._

_**A/N: So there was the nitty-gritty phone conversation that is one of many necessary heart-to-hearts between our two favorite star crossed lovers. Please review and let me know what you think, or throw out some questions if you want.**_

_**I do have the next chapter completed (my epic computer fail didn't turn me into a total slacker) but I'm going to need some reviews to satisfy my ego before I can post. Next is EPOV. Do your part to get it released!**_


	12. Doubt

**Chapter 12 – Doubt**

EPOV

"PLEASE! Oh God Bella I'm so sorry! I'm so fucking sorry! Please talk to me, let me know you're alright, love. Please!"

Seconds after I hear her begin to wretch, I hear someone knocking on her door. "Bella, please! I, I..I c-can't be without you." I'm as close to hysterical as I've ever been, finally the enormity of my crimes is staring at me.

"Edward", I hear her whisper into the phone, and I fall silent, waiting for her to continue. For some reason I can't stop the hitching of my chest and throat.

"I have to...I have to...go. I'll call soon but I can't do...do this right now." She's crying so hard that her words are stunted, I continue to beg for...anything.

"I c-can't do this right now. I'm sorry...I'm going." I hear her bedroom door open, and then the line goes dead, and she's gone again.

I drop the phone into the dirt at my feet and let out a scream that so loud I instantly fear Bella has heard it inside. But I can't contain myself. My hands migrate up to my hair absently, and I grip it firmly, squeezing my eyes shut and fighting against the monster inside of me who wants _- demands -_ absolutely undeserved absolution...unconditional submission. I remind myself once again that all this was brought on by my actions.

I should have known that she would react the way that she did. Killing innocents, to someone like Bella, would be unforgivable. And as always, I know that she'll take the burden of their deaths onto her shoulders and carry it for the rest of her life. She'll always feel guilt that is rightly mine.

I don't think there's anything I can do about that now.

Other than scream like a wounded animal and nearly pull out my chaotic hair.

I need to be closer to her. I can smell her from my perch but I need to see her, and I'm not close enough to hear Carlisle's thoughts. I approach the homestead slowly, nearly stumbling under the grief and shame that I feel. I have no right to go to her.

I get closer than I should, standing just outside the outer edge of the garden. The others are gone, and only Carlisle remains to deal with the aftermath of my confessions. When I see her through his clinical eyes I feel positively sick. She's thin and exhausted, her pallor is nearly identical to ours, and she has the same tale-tell bruises under her eyes of those of us who crave, but fail at, sleep. She's got an oxygen mask on her face, which is turned away from Carlisle who is still intently monitoring her pulse and breathing patterns. Her arms are wrapped around her middle and she's crying loud, tortured tears.

After a few more minutes she turns to Carlisle, and the heartbreak in her eyes causes an ache deep in his chest, an echo of what the look does to my insides. He raises his hand and brushes a strand of her lank hair her out of her face, and without conscious thought a deep, territorial growl rolls in my chest.

Carlisle jolts a bit at his he notices my presence, how close I am to the house. However his thoughts soon turn back to Bella, who has removed the mask from her face and is staring at him, obviously unaware of my proximity.

"How do you feel, dear?" His voice is soft and comforting, but Bella still flinches and sobs.

"I feel sick. Absolutely s-sick. And I feel guilty that three people had to die because of this. I never should have came to Forks."

I expected that, but it still burns me.

"And I'm angry at him for making me feel this kind of guilt. That he's put me in this position at all. What am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to accept this?" Her voice cracks and her whole body shakes under the weight of my crimes, and I'm seconds away from bursting through the window and begging for forgiveness at her feet.

"You can't allow yourself to feel guilty for the things he's done, Bella. You couldn't have stopped any of it, you couldn't have known what waited for you in Forks. If anyone should feel guilty it's me. I was supposed to protect him from all of this."

His confession stuns Bella, and as is her habit, she waits silently, offering unspoken support while he tries to formulate such complex emotions into words.

"I failed him, in so many ways. Maybe most detrimentally, I've somehow allowed him to believe that he's alone in this. He's isolated himself."

I am surprised by his observation, but it rings true.

"When he wanted to leave, I contemplated sending someone to shadow him, maybe at some point join him. He insisted that he needed time alone, but I should have fought against that harder. I left him alone to battle demons and circumstances that were beyond him. And of course, I'm responsible for leaving Forks at all. The family should have stayed, tried harder to convince him to stay."

"Bella, Edward has been with me for a long time. He's helped me raise all of my other children, even my wife, he's cleaned up messes that weren't his to erase and he's consistently used his powers to protect us. He rarely asks to anything in return. And when he begged us to leave, we allowed him to decide what he thought was the best."

Bella's breathing has returned to normal while listening intently to Carlisle, and I listen to the explanations as well, familiar yet different than what I'd expect him to tell her in this moment.

"The decision I regret the most was allowing Alice to travel to Brazil with me. We decided as a family that I should go search for him as I had the most experience with hunger and vampiric illness, from my time in Volterra. Alice knew his general location, and at first the plan was for me to travel alone."

"But when Alice decided to tag along, she had a vision that implied that if she accompanied me, she could convince him to return with us. Her reasoning was that he would be so enamored with seeing you again through his sister's gift that he would allow us to lead him back to the family. Then Alice saw him returning to you, under the pretense of a wellness check but ending in your reunion. The second premonition was at least two years in the future, but the prospect of Edward going back to you – being happy again – was enough to convince me that Alice should come to me with Rio."

Carlisle glances up at Bella's face, and she's got her eyes closed, even though tears push out from between her lids and her shoulders still shake.

"Of course Alice can't predict the repercussions of her own visions. And when I saw the look in his eyes as he watched it, I knew that I'd made the wrong choice. A deadly choice."

"Bella, all of my children have made mistakes. As their sire, I feel guilt for every one of those accidents and I have never condoned the actions of one of my family members if I considered them morally wrong. But I do offer forgiveness, every single time. Because some of the blame has to lie with their nature, and I'm the one who forced that on them."

For the first time in a while Bella speaks, and her voice is barely a whisper. "When you say accidents, you mean murder? They've all killed humans?"

"Yes, they have, even before this situation. All of them but Rosalie have drank human blood as well, whether by conscious choice or in a moment of uncontrolled hunger. It is a fact of our lifestyle that is tragic, but we have always dealt with as a whole, loving unit."

"It might be impossible for you to understand this sentiment as a human, but for us, instincts run deeper than self control or learned habits. No murder is right, but its unreasonable to apply human criminal terms because they were created for the human psyche, not ours. Murder is not the same thing for us. The intent is different, the motive isn't the same. So yes, sometimes 'accident' is the best way to articulate what the others have done. Bella, has Edward ever told you about my track record, so to speak?"

"Yes", she answers quietly. "He said that you've never killed a human."

Bizarrely, Carlisle chuckles. "That's partially true. I have participated in human deaths, although it's usually from the other end of a scalpel. I've also bitten four of my family members, and I drank from their bodies. I took their lives."

"But I haven't ever killed for food, or vengeance. It's always been with compassion, never instinct. Of all of my accomplishments in my long life, my self-control is what I am the proudest of, and I don't consider myself a murderer because of the killing that I've done." Carlisle is quiet, as if letting the idea settle.

"But even with that will-power Bella, I still know temptation. I still know bloodlust, and I still know instinct. I am not above my nature, nor immune to it. Because of that, I can sympathize with my son's choices, even if I can't agree with them."

"Can I ask you one more question, dear?" Bella nods absently, her eyelids beginning to droop.

"If the situation were reversed, and you had murdered innocents...if Edward were the human – what do you think he would do?"

She's silent for a long moment, then finally sighs. "I'll call."

"I know dear. Maybe you should get some rest first. You're obviously exhausted." She nods again.

Carlisle walks over to my desk chair, a few feet from the couch Bella is still lying on. As he sits she whispers, "It was never a question of loving him, you know. It's just that I don't know what to say. I don't know how to live with this guilt, how to move forward."

Carlisle smiles at her sadly, "I'm sorry, but I can't answer those questions for you."

Her eyes finally close and Carlisle and I both listen to the sounds of sleep taking her.

I literally in awe of the conversation that has just taken place. Carlisle's love for me shines through all of his words, and he very well may have given me another chance at this. She's going to call me, and that's already much more than I deserve.

"Thank you." I say rather loudly, sure that Carlisle will hear me.

He doesn't answer except in his head, mindful of the sleeping angel on the couch. _**I didn't say anything that wasn't true, son. I told you that I wanted to help, and I meant that. But for now you should go, because I expect the others back soon, and they wont be as understanding of how close you are right now.**_

I want to get angry at my siblings for their interference, but the truth is I deserved it. Besides, after what Carlisle has done for me I should at least give him the courtesy of avoiding the conflict. Instead I answer him, "I'm sorry for all of this, I'm just starting to see how deep this all goes. It's like I'm waking up from a weird, violent dream and I still feel desperate and possessive, even though I know that Bella doesn't deserve it – that's it supposed to be wrong." I sigh heavily. "Um, really Carlisle, thank you...for the things you said."

_**It's going to be alright son. We'll get through it, and we'll try to make it right. Now go.**_

I nod and run from the house. I know what I should be doing, but I want to just run for awhile. Everything is happening so fast now, faster than seems normal.

I should be finishing the preparations for our departure. Even more pressing, I should be taking care of the mutt.

There isn't really any other options for the dog other than death. The risk of Charlie becoming a vampire is an unthinkable one, something that I'm sure would traumatize Bella and destroy the Charlie that we all knew. The problem, of course, is that Bella will never _truly _understand that, and after the things that I've done, killing her childhood best friend could very likely be the breaking point for her.

A catch 22. Kill him and she will hate me. Free him and kill her father, she will hate me and herself. The choice between his life or her father's seems clear to me, but even I can see that my opinions are somewhat biased, and have not, for quite some time, been accepted as logical in the eyes of others.

Suddenly I know. It's so obvious. I'll tell her. All of it, especially Charlie's involvement. I'll let _her _decide on the next course of action, the right course of action.

And so that leaves the preparations, something else that I'm not entirely sure of anymore. The truth is that after hearing Carlisle's words, I almost want to abandon them altogether. Honestly, I wish I could just step back from all of it. But that would mean continuing to stay away from her, at least in a physical sense. It will mean accepting that other people will continue to be closer to her that I am. It will mean continuing to endure the hollow pain in my chest that is the physical facet of my need for her. I don't know that I am capable of promising that. The idea of going to her, taking her away with me, from all of this, is so enticing.

I'm not unaware that something is off inside of me. Some switch has been flicked, some breaker has blown, some wire has become frayed and is misfiring inside of my head. Even though I try, I can't stop the monster inside of me from believing that if I could just be with her, just _touch_ her, that the unlatched gate would snap into place, that this hole in my chest would stitch up, that I would be _right _again.

Pushing those fantasies away, I force myself to think of the much more probable ending to all of this – Alice's vision. Bella's death. A thousand times I've replayed the end of her life on that roughly-cleared airstrip, I've stared at her crooked arm and watched her chest rise and fall jaggedly, brokenly.

Thinking of Alice makes me decide on my first order of business, at least until I can speak with Bella. I turn toward the kennel and soon I'm stepping through the door to be greeted by the smell of rotten food and fear, overpowered by the snarls and thoughts of hate that are slung at me. For the most part I ignore his noise, reminding myself that Bella alone will decide what becomes of him, of all of us.

Instead I quickly walk to the table, dumping all three teeth out into my palm and stuffing them into my jeans pocket. Then I head back out the door and toward the town, having finally decided on the next item on my agenda.

I will tell Bella about the preparations as well. I'll tell her about my plans for the end of her life, of our escape together. Until I know of her choice, I will proceed as planned, I have to be prepared for whatever decision she makes.

Could she possibly accept my drastic measures? After she knows about Jacob, is there any chance at all that she'd come with me?

How could she possibly come with me?

**/MM\**

When my phone rings, I'm still finishing up in town. I nearly rip a hole in pocket trying to get it out, and I greet her with my usual relieved and reverent sigh of her name.

"I'm so glad you called, love" is the next thing I say, incapable of forming more complex thoughts quite yet. I step into a nearby alley that empties out into the deserted street behind the row of shops and restaurants.

"I'm sorry that I hung up on you the way that I did earlier. I just needed some time to digest your story."

I groan. "No, love, please don't apologize. Please don't be sorry. I'm the one that should be sorry. I'm the one responsible for all of this. I'm sorry that I hurt you, that I hurt others. Most of all I'm sorry for leaving Bella. I'll regret it forever, because it started all of this."

She's silent, because it's true. I don't think she will ever fully understand why I left. It definitely doesn't make sense to me anymore.

"I'll never kill another human, Bella, if that's what you want. You tell me what you want. I can't make decisions any more. I know something is wrong with me", my voice cracks, "so for now you have to tell me what to do. Tell me what's right and what's wrong. I'll do whatever you ask."

She's crying again, and the sound of it makes me crazy. I'm so angry at myself, at this situation. I feel so helpless.

"I'm so sorry, love. I'm sorry that I'm putting you through this. I'll never be able to apologize enough", I whisper.

"Edward", she begins, and my heart jumps into my throat, "Carlisle asked me a question, and now I want to ask you."

"You can ask me anything."

"If our situation had been reversed, and you were the human and I was the vampire, do you think you would have forgiven me?"

"I don't think I can answer that, love. I don't really remember what it's like to think like a human."

"Well then if I were changed, and I wanted to hunt humans, would you let me?"

At first, I'm dumbstruck that she just insinuated that she may _not _be changed. It occurs to me then that she may not want this life anymore, after what I've done. Panic begins to rise but I force myself to focus on her question. It's simple, really.

"Yes", I say resolutely.

"You would let me kill humans?" She reiterates incredulously, and I agree again.

"And would you join me? Give up your family?"

"I would follow you anywhere Bella. Even into the dark." Her breath hitches and it's immediately clear to me that my answer is not the correct one. I just told her that I'm not capable of making decisions like these anymore, was this a test? Had I failed?

"I just need to follow you", I continue quickly, my anxiety rising, "Please let me stay with you, Bella. I can't let you go. I can't be without you."

She exhales shakily, then sniffles a few more times. The time passes slowly for me, but I try to wait patiently on her reassurances.

Finally, she whispers, "We can't be without one another anymore. That's not an option."

My being floods with relief. Then guilt in response to that relief. Is is possible to feel elation, warmth and shame all at once?

All that I can do is sob dryly into her ear, I can tell her over and over again that I love her, need her.

I know that I have to tell her the rest of it. If she's to make decisions for us, then she has to have all of the information. I have to provide her with the facts, no matter how it hurts me, what it costs me. Her answer seconds before gives me hope that she'll still accept me when all of this is over. That shred of hope allows me to press forward with the second and last confessional.

"Bella..."

On her side of the phone I hear a door slam, and the abrupt noise causes Bella to gasp sharply. Immediately I am wary, "Who is that, love?"

"I don't know", she begins absently, and I hear the rustle of her unfolding her legs and standing from her perch on the couch.

"Carlisle!" I hear Jasper scream somewhere on the first floor, "Carlisle we found something! We know how he's hiding from Alice!"

As he yells he begins ascending the steps, surely confused on why Carlisle doesn't seem to be present in the house. I am already full of dread, my heart seems to drop into my stomach. His voice is louder as he passes Bella's door and I'm sure she hears him when he continues, "He's got a captive!"

Before he reaches Carlisle's study the french doors off the kitchen open and close, and I hear Carlisle greet Jasper from downstairs. "I was in the garden on the phone. What's happened?"

Jasper doesn't answer. Instead I hear his footsteps approach my mate's bedroom and a feral growl begins rumbling from my chest. Without bothering to look around first I take off running back toward her.

I hear the bedroom door open violently and Bella gasps again. Jasper continues to advance on her, and when they are only inches apart I hear him whisper, "Is that Edward?" His voice is flat and angry.

I hear the rustle of Bella's hair when she nods her head, and then I hear a sharp whisper of air and a final startled gasp from my Beloved. Then the phone is snapped shut.

_**A/N: YAY for getting a new laptop! And YAY for my review count rolling over into the triple digits, which I must thank Rebadams7 and Keyecullen for. My ultimate ffn goal would be to receive a QUADRUPLE digit review count, but 'tis a lofty goal, and one that I'm not sure this story will achieve. We've still got a long way to go, so we'll see what happens I guess.**_

_**Shoutout and thanks to linnfromia, adeli, and last but not least, Saritadreaming and all her insightful friends. **_

_**I'm working on the next chapter now, also a EPOV (it goes 2 EPOV then BPOV, in case you haven't figured it out...) Hopefully I'll finish it in the next few days but maybe tomorrow if the reviews are particularly inspiring...*hint hint* **_

_**Now that Edward is starting to come around, do you think he'll accept the distance in their relationship? How will Bella and the rest of the family react to Jasper's discovery? **_

_**Thanks again.**_

_**MM**_


	13. Control

**Chapter 13 – Control **

**EPOV - **

It takes every bit of restraint that I've cultivated over the past century not to crush the phone in my hands into dust. My jaw is set, my eyes squeeze shut but I don't stop running, and finally I manage to shove my silent phone into my pocket.

Jasper has obviously found the kennel. God knows who he left to guard it, if he left anyone at all. I know that I should head to the hulled-out house now, to finish the dog before Carlisle enters the picture, possibly granting the mutt his freedom. The consequences of that decision are not acceptable. Maybe, hopefully, my siblings will realize the threat and handle it themselves before I arrive there.

Because regardless of what I _should _do, I already know what I _will _do, and I don't slow at all when I reach the fork in the trail that leads either toward the kennel or toward the homestead, where I know Bella will still be. She's no doubt surrounded, and I admit that I don't have much of a plan for what will happen once I find her, but I just have to know that she's OK. That's my first priority. Always.

If Jasper hurt her – in any way – I'll annihilate him. No one will be able to stop me.

God, I miss her. Even if I can't be too close, I need to be within the range of her scent. It's delicacy brings me peace, it's one of the only things that grounds me to this world any more. The ache in my chest is draining me, the longer and harder I run the more it hurts.

When I get within a mile of the house, I stop in the middle of the woods, confused, and turn in a circle, looking around. I can't smell her. I should be able to smell her by now. A few seconds later I'm standing in the back garden, staring at the kitchen window while panic holds my legs and arms in place.

_She's not here._

Immediately I take off towards the kennel, where I'm certain at least some of my family has gathered. If they know where she is I'll find out. And if they stand in my way I'll make them wish they hadn't.

I run slower than usual, sacrificing speed in order to spend more time scanning the forest around me, on alert for my family or any other faint sound or smell that could lead me to my Beloved. My prudence is rewarded when I skirt around two separate hunting parties. I spot Carlisle and Jasper first, running with purpose in the direction that I just came from. At first I'm confused, but finally I deduce their intent from Carlisle's musings on staying away from the middle of the city, as most veterinarian offices in urban neighborhoods employ night security, or even stay open 24 hours a day.

_It's not a hunting party. It's a supply run._

Jasper's mind is livid. He plays with fantasies of taking off on his own, figuring that Carlisle will continue without him. His deeply ingrained reverence for chain of command is the only thing that holds him back. He knows, in this coven, that he is not the captain.

Not three minutes after Carlisle's thoughts fade from my mind, I begin to hear my name reverberating through the forest. Alice and Emmett's approach is noisy, and they beseech me internally as well as aloud, yelling my name out and breathing deeply as they scour a heavily-forested hillside about a mile and a half from my current position. Without giving myself away, I once again skirt around my siblings.

I do a quick headcount in my head, the numbers are looking much better for me now. Only Esme and Rosalie are unaccounted for, and I guess it's safe to assume that they have both been left in charge of guarding Bella, where ever she is. Did they leave any one at all to guard the dog? Is it possible that he's already dead? Escaped? Then why the supply run?

All other strategy falls out of my head then, as I catch a strong whiff of Bella's scent on the breeze. As I walk closer, the enticing aroma only grows stronger, but something about it seems odd. Tainted.

It's the werewolf scent that also hangs in the trees that is polluting the smell of my Beloved. I am close to the kennel now.

Like a lightning bolt it hits me, and my feet stop dead in their tracks.

_Bella's at the kennel._

It's obvious now, I can taste her scent mingling with the stench of the mutt, both his body and his fear. It makes me sick. It makes my insides churn and my hands shake with some kind of subconscious dread.

Finally I cover the last bit of distance to the kennel and I stop again, feeling rather dizzy, about five feet from the closed front door.

Rose is behind the house, I can hear her distracted thoughts, she doesn't even acknowledge me. For one second anger surges in my chest, as I reason out that _she _must have been the one to bring Bella here. To punish me.

The anger doesn't last long, it's quickly snuffed out by the panic that consumes me when I realize that Jacob is human, shackled in front of her and drinking out of a water bottle noisily. I smell her tears through the door. I also smell her adrenaline, her heart is beating so furiously that I fear it may explode in her tiny, fragile chest. Something powerful and animalistic seems to hang in the air between our bodies, even though she is not aware of me yet, and I wonder for a moment if Bella is actually – finally – afraid.

I open the door, and immediately Bella turns. There's definitely not any fear on her face.

Fury. Pure, primal, unadulterated fury is what blazes from her red-rimmed eyes. She's beautiful even in her hate, she reminds me of some wrathful angel, ethereal and terrifying all at once. She flies at me quickly, and I'm even more dazed by her speed and anger-fueled grace.

Her tiny hands are balled into fists and she's swinging at me. I try to duck and dodge, but the entire situation is so unexpected, so awe-inspiring, that I can barely concentrate on protecting her delicate hands. Her body is so close to mine that her hair is floating around the both of us as she flings curses and punches at me. If it weren't for the other putrid smells in the room, I wouldn't have been able to handle her proximity.

"Bella!" The sound of her name brings me back into this bizarre reality that I find myself in, and any relief that I may have found in my fog of disbelief is gone. Bella continues to swing at me, and for the first time I really listen to the words pouring heatedly through her lips.

"Bella!" Jacob screams again, and she finally slows her assault. Her hands and arms will be bruised tomorrow, and even though she could never physically hurt me with her blows, my chest positively aches as I come to terms with what just occurred.

She finally turns back toward Jacob, "You can't hurt him like that Bella, you'll only hurt yourself. You have to get help." His voice cracks as he finishes, and I notice that intermingled with the fear and anger that he feels, he's also ashamed that even with the curse of his grandfathers, he cannot protect her from me. He's terrified for her.

I growl lowly, letting him know that she's mine to worry about. Mine to protect. When Bella whirls back around on me, rage still blazing on her face, I realize I've made another, detrimental mistake.

"What have you done?" She screams at me, her voice like shrill, Christmas bells. I flinch as she continues to yell, "Who are you! What the hell is the matter with you?"

Once again I am stunned. I look around the room, confused, as if the answer will lie there forgotten in some corner. When I look back up she's still staring at me harshly, but with no idea what she wants from me I can only tell her the truth.

"I...I don't know." The softness in my tone surprises me, but it doesn't seem to faze her.

Her heartbeat is beginning to slow, along with her breathing, but the anger on her face is still burning bright. "How could you do this?", she finally hisses.

Rosalie and Jacob are both smug.

I try to meet her eyes, but fail. Instead I stutter out, "H-he came here on h-his own. He wanted to hurt us, he wanted to take you away from me, and I had to stop him. I had to c-contain him."

"He's missing three teeth." Her voice is as cold as ice.

"I needed them," I whisper, wondering if she could have heard me at all. The silence that follows my confession suggests she didn't and I chance another glance at her face.

She's not looking at me, she's looking through me. Finally she sighs, "Alice."

"Yes", I shakily confirm. I wait for several more seconds in silence, ignoring the jibes and threats from our audience, ignoring even the conflicting scents in the air that make me hard, manic and nauseous all at once. I only concentrate on her, I count the hitches that still pepper her breath.

Finally, she meets my gaze again, and I'm already wishing I could have the baited silence back. Her eyes aren't so wrathful anymore, but they're full of a sadness and hurt so deep that I nearly drown in it.

"Let him go." She whispers, knowing I will hear her perfectly well and knowing that I will catch the authority in her tone. It's not a request.

I close my eyes. "I can't." Jacob growls.

"You can!" She yells, "You will! You just told me that I get to make the decisions from now on Edward, and that's what I'm doing!" Rosalie snickers outside but I don't have time to be irritated with her right now. Bella continues to stare me down, eventually moving closer. "Give me the keys Edward, and I'll free him myself." She reaches out her hand and its impossible not to see how harshly it's shaking. I look up at her with my eyebrow raised, surprised, but she continues to stare down at her hand, reminding me of her command. Without the piercing heat of her stare, I can really _look_ at her, and I'm not happy with what I see.

She looks exhausted.

"Bella," I begin, my voice soft and hesitant.

"No! She cuts me off, "Give it to me!"

"Just listen for one minute first. He'll tell Charlie, Love. I've seen it in his mind. Alice has seen it, or at least the repercussions of it. She's seen him...as one of us."

For the first time since I arrived, she's the one who looks dazed. Her distraction only lasts for a second before it's replaced by horror. She turns back to Jacob and exclaims, "You can't tell Charlie, you can't do that to him! Or to me."

The hole in my chest throbs. I listen as she explains the basics of my sister's gift to the stupid mutt, and I grit my teeth when she begs him not to tell, when she touches his dirty hand as she extracts a promise from his muddled, terrified brain.

Even in his dire state, he knows that it's a lie. Consequently, so do I.

"He's lying, Bella." I entreat softly, and she turns her fiery gaze on me again. I look down and she faces Jacob.

"Promise me again Jacob. Swear to me. Because telling Charlie about all of this would be the absolute worst thing you could ever do to him. Things are black and white with Charlie, good and evil. He would hate this kind of existence so much. He wouldn't ever understand. And if he went to the police, or the media..." she glances at me, so I continue.

"Even if no one believed him, which is most likely, he wouldn't live to tell his story very many times. Knowledge of my kind is punishable by death. There are trials, no explanations - they would kill him along with the rest of my family. Along with Bella."

He stares at me while I speak, sitting up straighter and once again testing the strength of the shackles that still hold him so close to the ground. He too, feels the power shift occurring in the room. It's obvious to even Rosalie outside that I am no longer in control of this.

"I swear, Bella. I wont tell Charlie anything. I promise. I just want to live. I want us to get away from him."

I can't help the rumble that rolls out of my chest. Bella turns to me again and in answer to her hostile stare I stammer, "He wont stop, Love. We can't trust him to keep this secret. I've seen his plans."

"Stop it." She hisses at me, "I trust him Edward. I have no reason not to. And I sure as hell trust him more than you."

A harsh sob breaks free from my chest, and I cover my face with both hands while I try to hold myself together.

"Let him go." She whispers again.

And so I approach him but he begins to shake, his transformation a given if I get close enough to touch him. The events of the past several days are not lost on him, and he cowers away from me as his mind replays the feeling of my granite hands in his mouth.

Bella snatches the key ring from my grip and begins to work, I want to protest but I'm finally able to exert some sort of control over myself.

After his chains are removed he rubs his limbs absently, the collar that I'd kept around his neck has left a deep impression in his dark skin. Bella's hand skims over the indention, and the action causes both of us to whine.

He reaches up to cup her hand against his jaw, then whispers, "Come with me."

My whole world seems to shift and begin to topple, all the air in my head lungs whooshes out and I'm left feeling empty and terrified and nearly hysterical. I can see my Beloved's face in his mind, and the indecision there is like a lance piercing through me.

Finally she sighs, her decision made. I wait like a condemned man at the gallows.

"I can't," she breathes, and I hitch in a breath. "It's not safe for you. He won't stop." She's silent for another moment, contemplating her words, and Jacob stares at her in disbelief. "I don't think he can stop." Another sigh passes through her lips, and she states resolutely, "I'm staying here with him."

Jacob is shaking his head, then he laughs lightly even though his whole body is still vibrating and there are tears running down his dirty cheeks. He lifts himself onto his unsteady legs.

"I wish I could say I understand, Bells."

"Take care of Charlie for me." She whispers in return.

Jacob begins to walk out of the room, and my fingers twitch as he approaches me in the doorway. I swallow the angry knot in my throat and step out of the way.

"You're a fucking monster." He says to me, baiting me, hoping to give Bella that one last reason to leave me. He doesn't really expect me to retaliate.

But I surprise him, in one quick motion I pin him to the door frame, holding him off of the ground by his neck and hissing into his face, "Listen closely Black, because this is the only warning you'll ever get. If Charlie finds out about us I'll kill you, you should know that. And if he's turned because of something you do I will not stop until I have killed every man, woman and child in that god-forsaken pack of yours."

I drop him, and he spares Bella once last patronizing look, as if to say 'I told you so', then he takes off running to the treeline.

Rosalie watches his departure long after I've lost sight of him through the narrow opening of the doorway. As I tune in to the sight of his matted black hair disappearing into the branches, I have a gnawing feeling that we haven't seen the last of Jacob Black.

After he's gone we stand staring at one another. She gives nothing away - she barely ever does - her mind is like a fortress, although sometimes she gives me peeks into her thoughts with her eyes, like peeping into well lit windows high up on her castle walls.

Tonight, even those shutters are locked up tight.

Her eyes are resigned, and it kills me. She's _resigned _to be with me. She's sacrificing her own life for the safety of her family. She's afraid of me, or at least of what I am capable of. How did we get here?

"You seem like you're doing well," she says, and I'm completely bewildered by her words. Doing well? Is she serious?

Seeing the questions on my face, she continues, "I mean with the blood lust. You've been standing in this room with me for a while now and you seem to be doing just fine." Her tone of voice suggests small talk, but I can sense the hint of accusation under it.

I shake my head at her. She continues to stare at me, its obvious my inarticulate denial is not enough to satisfy her so I try to press forward, "I'm still very, very susceptible to your scent. The other scents in the room, they're really helping me control myself. Now that the m – Jacob, is gone, I don't know how much longer I'll be able to hold out."

She's still silent, so I try to fill up the heavy silence. "Bella, I wanted to tell you. I was going to tell you when Jas-"

"I'm not sure I want to hear any more explanations right now, Edward." Her voice was soft but so sad.

"I love y-"

"Don t say that!" She interrupts me again and I fall onto my knees in front of the door, wondering, for the first time since Alice's horrific vision, if I have the strength in me not to get her back, but to let her go. I don't think I do. Can I forcefully take her from here, take advantage of the sacrifice she made for her loved ones? I don't think I can do that either. Is there anything else left?

She sighs again and steps closer to me, I flinch back, expecting another flurry of punches that would only hurt me because they hurt her. Could I stand a lifetime of this, if it was the only type of interaction she offered?

Instead of slamming her hand against me I feel her soft, open palm ghost over my jawbone. My breath, which has been stuck in my chest for God knows how long, comes rushing out at the contact and then continues to stutter in and out like I desperately need the air that I filter through my unaffected lungs.

"I'm sss-sorry. S..S...Sorry. Please! P-Pluh-please God please B-Bella, I'm s..so s-sorry." I'm not sure exactly what I'm begging for, besides her presence, her acceptance. When I left her in the woods not even a year ago, I had asked...no, demanded a clean break – no contact, no support, no tangible proof of anything at all. What if she asks the same of me? The truth is I couldn't give that to her.

The truth is I'm begging her not to ask it of me.

"Sshh," she soothes me, and I'm too broken down to care why she would soothe me after what I've done. When she moves her burning hot hand from my face to the hair around my left ear I abandon words all together and just sob, leaning more and more of my weight against the palm of her hand.

"Carlisle will be here soon," she eventually whispers, "he doesn't know that I'm here."

I nod in agreement, still not capable of much else but nuzzling the side of my face against her scorching hand. The smell is strong and potent so close to my face but I beat my monster away furiously, determined to enjoy this great mercy while it lasts.

"Are you going to leave before the family gets back?" She finally asks softly.

"Come with me", I blurt out, my eyes still closed while I enjoy her ministrations. I know there's no chance she will agree, but I still wait without breathing or blinking while she thinks it over.

"You'll hurt me", she whispers quietly, and my chest aches.

"No" I protest as I turn my face even further into the palm of her hand. "No, Bella. I'll never hurt you. I could never hurt you." To emphasize my point I turn my nose deeply into the cusp of her palm and pulled in a large breath of air. She _had _touched the dog earlier, and I can still smell traces of him, but the aroma I pull in to my body is the most delicious thing I've experienced since the smell of her gifted panties, which have been folded reverently and stowed away for later use.

Her potent scent, as well as memories of the panties, makes my monster literally pound his chest in dominance and my throat erupts into scorching flames. Instead of giving in, I kiss the ball of her hand, letting the flames in my neck burn my entire inside of my body into cinders.

When I look up she's watching me, a small bit of softness and light visible in her eyes.

"I-I feel like when I'm with you, it makes me better. I don't have to worry about making decisions that will upset you, because you can tell me exactly what you want. I'll do whatever you ask, Love, just please stay with me. I'm afraid to be alone with myself anymore."

She's silent for another minute, but I don't push her and I'm grateful that she continues to run her left hand through my hair absently. I close my eyes again and drift for a moment, enjoying the peace, a small temporary piece of what I long for the most.

"If I changed, would that make you better?"

I'm dumbstruck for a moment. "I, uh, I didn't think you'd want that anymore."

"I want this to stop."

I bow my head slightly, not wanting to see her face anymore. More like terrified to see it. God, that hurt. Stop. She wants to sacrifice her life so that this sick obsession that I have for her will be sated, so that I'll leave her family alone, her friends. Random strangers.

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded, Edward, I meant...that I want to be equal with you, I want to be able to trust you, and love you again."

I feel both hope that she still wants me, in some illogical and probably unhealthy way, but I'm also so sad that she's asking me to change her under these circumstances. Even if I too know that it's the only way forward for us, hearing her spell it out like this is difficult.

I'll spend the rest of my existence making up for this, if she'll let me. I tell her so, and tears run down her cheeks but she's still silent.

"Will you come with me?" I finally ask. I look up into her eyes from my position on the floor by the doorway and I try to show her with my eyes how much I love her. I wish I knew how to articulate that love was indeed the core, the eye, of all of this.

"I promise I'll keep you safe. Even from myself, even if we have to spend most of our time apart in the beginning, at least until you're changed."

"Change me now." She says breathlessly, and time stops. I stare at her, I watch her chest heave and her jugular artery pulse in time with the rapid beat of her heart, I watch her intoxicating blush color her porcelain skin from her temple down into the scoop neck of her shirt.

I want her. So bad that I ache. So bad that I want to cry and swear and tear apart the earth around me.

"I. I can't. I can't Love. Not yet. I need more time."

Her heaving body seems to deflate, and once again she stands rather awkwardly in front of me.

"But please stay with me until then. I promise, Bella, that I could never hurt you."

"I'm afraid, I'm sorry" she whispers, but I can only nod in understanding.

"I know, Love. If you can't do it, then I'll stay as well. Carlisle...will be angry. But I'll do what he says, what you say, if that's what you want."

She's still silent, and I wait until she looks at me to ask one last time. "Please, Bella."

She nods.

She nods her head in ascent.

She fucking nods.

It takes me a full five seconds to react, because now that I've gotten what I want I'm ecstatic and terrified all at once. "Thank you! Thank you so much." I want to touch her so bad that my fingerpads are tingling.

Rosalie takes the break in conversation as her cue to enter the house, where she's surely been listening this entire time. Not that I care. If she thinks that she can stop me from leaving with Bella now that I have her explicit permission, she's about to learn a very intense lesson.

When she approaches Bella I bristle, and a thin warning growl rolls out of my chest. Rosalie spares me a look but Bella does not, and instead she closes the remaining distance to my sister and wraps her in a short but tight hug. "Thank you" she whispers to her.

In Rosalie's mind I see bits of the conversation that had led to Bella's appearance at this place. I can also see that she means to let us go without confrontation.

"Thank you", I echo Bella.

_**I didn't just do this for you, I did it for all of us**_, she answers.

In the back of my head, I hear my monster rejoicing at the idea of running with Bella, and anxious with the fact that my father and furious brother would get here soon, complicating my escape considerably.

So I take in one more deep, odd breath of heaven mixed with kerosene, fine wine and ash. Then I raise up from my position of reverence on the floor, and I walk over to my love, my living, breathing soul. I scoop her up into my arms, not daring to breathe, barely daring to look upon her perfect, dazzling face. She closes her eyes as well when I start to run with new purpose away from the cabin and back toward civilization, taking the long way to avoid running into my family.

Even not breathing, I fight my monster all the way back to the hotel room I'd rented a few days before. He howls and shakes around my insides the entire time I run with her, trying to claw his way up my burning throat.

It's a small price to pay for the gifts that I received tonight.

It's a small price indeed to hold her in my arms again. For a chance.


End file.
